Intertwined
by callandra
Summary: A new threat emerges in Sunnydale, bringing with it someone from Spike's past.  Better than the summary  hopefully
1. Chapter 1

**A/N: This is my first Buffy-ish story, but it wouldn't get out of my head, so I figured I'd better type it out to be rid of it. Reviews are appreciated, especially criticism, but be nice about it. As always, if you saw it on screen, I don't own it (although I wouldn't mind owning Lindsey. Or Spike. Or Angel. Or all three….)**

The sound of metal hitting metal filled the tunnel, but was muted by the cars passing overhead. One would have to walk directly past the overpass to hear the swords clanging. If one was to walk past, they would have seen a woman carefully matching her much larger opponent, blow for blow.

"You know, we could just settle this over a nice game of poker. What do you say to that?"

"Never! There can be only one!"

"And here I'd hoped to actually make it through a fight without having to hear that particular line. Honestly, is that the only phrase any of us knows?"

Angered, he swung at her again. Good. If he was angry, he would get sloppy. Just the opening she needed. With just a few more swings, his head was separated from his body.

"Guess you're not the One."

The body began to glow, and levitate. She could feel the current shooting from the body and into her. This was the part she hated. For this short time, she was helpless against the realities of the Quickening. His power flowed into her, ripping through her body, the pain and tension building until she had to scream it out. This one had been young, barely fifty. It didn't take long before she was lying on her back on the asphalt, exhausted.

After several seconds, she realized that the buzzing in her ears was her cell phone, not after effects of the Quickening. She felt around for it, until she found it in her pocket. She groaned at the soreness in her arms as she put it up to her ear.

"Hello?"

"You sound like hell. You okay?"

"Should I know who this is?"

"Cariss, it's Methos. What's wrong?"

"Some people just take longer to kill than others, that's what's wrong. Now, what do you want?"

"I can't call just because I want to talk to you?"

"Methos, in the century the phone has been in existence, have you ever called just because you wanted to talk to me?"

"There's a first time for everything."

"Please tell me you didn't call just for this?"

"Of course not. The Watchers are concerned about events happening in Sunnydale."

Sunnydale, Sunnydale. Cariss thought for a moment before it clicked.

"Sunnydale? Why do I care about the States?"

"It's a Hellmouth, remember?"

"And what do I care about that? I'm not exactly in the area you know."

"Just where are you, anyway?"

"Moscow. So tell me why I should care about Sunnydale."

"Vampires are disappearing. And there's a member of clan Aurelius there."

"Aurelius?"

Cariss finally pushed herself up to a sitting position when Methos' words began to sink in.

"Who's there, Methos?"

"I don't know who, love, just that one of your family is there."

"I'll be on the next plane to the States."

"Wonderful. By the by, who'd you just kill?"

Cariss looked back down at the body only a couple of feet away from her.

"Lionel Robinson. Did you know him?"

"I've heard of him. That can't have taken too long. Call me when you get to California."

She ended the call and put her phone back in her pocket, cursing as she pushed herself to her feet. A perk of immortality was rapid healing, not instant healing. It would be late tonight or early tomorrow before she was completely healed. It was going to be a long flight to California.

Willow huffed as she was knocked into a mausoleum. Routine patrol tonight, and the Scoobies had been attacked by a small horde of vampires. She'd already staked one, and looked over to see that Buffy was dealing with three. That was when she was knocked back by a vampire who'd just arrived on the scene.

"Did every vamp in Sunnydale decide to drop by or something?" she just had to ask herself.

"Not all of them, Pet, just a small coven," Spike answered her rhetorical question as he dusted the vampire that had knocked her back.

"Thanks."

There was no time for more talk as they were pulled back into the fighting. She didn't notice, but Spike stayed close to her, keeping the majority of the vampires at bay. This was why he stayed, why he helped the Slayer. He couldn't let his Red get hurt.

After several more minutes, and several sarcastic quips from Buffy, the last of the vampires were dust. The Slayer immediately looked around to make sure her friend was still standing.

"Willow, you good?"

"Yeah, thanks to Spike."

Buffy just glared at the bleach blonde vampire. It wasn't that she didn't appreciate him watching Willow's back, she just hated owing him anything.

"Thanks."

"Don't mention it."

"Giles, you good?"

"I'm alright. Did you get the last of them, then?"

"Yep. All the vamps are dusted. No more vamps for us."

"Good, good. Shall we call it a night, then?"

Buffy was only too eager to jump at that offer. She'd hoped to finish early enough to hit the Bronze tonight. Now, it looked as if that would happen.

"I'll see you guys later, then. Oh, Wills, do I need to walk you back to the dorm, or can I finally convince you to come Bronzing?"

Willow shook her head.

"I need to head back. I have a test tomorrow, I have to study."

"You focus too much on schoolwork, Wills. You gotta let loose a bit."

"Maybe I'll let loose once this test is over."

She didn't remind Buffy that she also had a test the next day; midterms were not escapable by anyone. She knew that Buffy would just whine about the unfairness of having to slay **and** take tests. And in a way, Willow agreed. So much responsibility should occasionally allow her poor friend a free pass on some things.

"I'll take you back then."

"You don't need to walk me back, Buff. Go have fun with Riley."

"Are you sure?"

"Sure, I'm sure. Spike can make sure I make it safe and sound, can't you Spike?"

Spike found himself agreeing to walk his Red back to the dorms, and mentally shook himself, wondering how he got into these messes. Buffy was off before anyone could change their mind.

"Right. Well, Willow if you have everything in hand, I'll see you tomorrow."

"I'll see you tomorrow Giles."

Giles gave Spike a last mistrustful glare before leaving the pair. Willow stood quiet for a moment, before Spike interrupted her thoughts.

"Not that it isn't a beautiful evening, Pet, but I do need to get back to Rippers bloody basement before the sun comes up."

"Right. Sorry. Let's go then, so you can get home."

He bit back a growl. The Watcher's basement was not his bloody home. It was a temporary place to crash. And the sooner he was out of it, the better. Willow started walking, in the opposite direction of the campus.

"Dorms' this way Red."

She turned around with a slight blush. Spike would love to know what she was thinking that had her so disoriented, but didn't question her on it. Instead he walked the first few minutes in silence.

"So, Red, what test is it that you have to study for? I wouldn't imagine school was a problem for you."

"It's not, generally, but history really isn't my best subject, and that's the test I have tomorrow. The French and Indian War."

"Ah."

"Did you ever study the French and Indian War?"

"That was about a century before my time, Pet."

"I meant, in school, or something. Not that you had personal experience or anything. I know you're not that old."

"Really? You know how old I am?"

"You were turned in 1880, so around a hundred and forty something?"

"Good guess, Pet. I was twenty-eight when I was turned."

He was impressed that she actually knew that. Sure, they would have researched him and Dru, when they first came to town, but this girl actually remembered. He didn't think that Slutty remembered anything she learned once she no longer needed it.

"So, did you study the French and Indian War?" Willow came back to her original question.

Spike had to think back to when he was still human. It had been over a hundred years, as he'd pointed out, and once he'd been turned, he'd put as much of his old self behind him as possible.

"We called it the Seven Years War. And the British perspective is no doubt different from the Colonial perspective, so I doubt it's anything you'd find on your test."

"I don't know about that. The professor likes essay questions, it could very well come in handy."

With Willow's encouragement, Spike recounted what he could remember about his education, and what he'd been taught about that particular war. He thought it was too bad the test wasn't about one of the World Wars, he had firsthand knowledge of those. He didn't mind talking to Red about the past. She was probably the only one of the lot that didn't judge anything he might tell her. She just accepted that he was a demon, even if right now he couldn't hurt her, and moved on. Unlike Slutty, who threw what he was back in his face any chance she got. Even if he was acting completely un-demonlike, the Slayer continually brought it up.

Before either of them knew it, they'd reached the dorm. Willow looked up in surprise. She'd been completely engrossed in Spike's story, and was disappointed that their time was now ended. She stood for a minute, fidgeting. Spike found it cute. He didn't want to leave her there, either.

"Um, thanks for making sure I got back in one piece, Spike. And thanks for the history lesson. I'm sure it will come in handy tomorrow."

" 'Night, Red."

Spike waited until she was in the dorm before turning around and heading back to Giles', and a mug of warm blood, determined NOT to dream of erotic dreams of the girl he'd just walked home when he finally slept.


	2. Chapter 2

**A/N: Okay, just to confuse everyone, I'm not exactly sticking with specific seasons on here. Clear as mud? Good. And usual disclaimer applies, if I owned them, I would definitely have better things to do with them than just write about them **** Virtual cookies for all reviews! I might even remember to thank you.**

**Oh, new disclaimer as well. 'Wonderful Tonight' belongs to Eric Clapton, the guitar god of this century, and 'Foolish Games' belongs to Jewel. **

Cariss looked around her as she entered the bar, and her jaw dropped at the sight of so many demons. Could this possibly be right? This was where she would find her answers? This was a karaoke bar. A demon karaoke bar.

"You don't belong here, half breed."

Cariss looked over at the green skinned, red-eyed demon who'd spoken, and raised a single eyebrow.

"You must be Lorne. Methos said you were easily distinguishable."

"And you must be lost. We don't cater to Immortals, Doll face."

"Then it's a good thing I don't qualify as just an Immortal any longer, wouldn't you say?"

"You have a point. But there are a lot of demons in here who don't take kindly to, well, your kind. Don't expect a warm welcome."

Cariss looked out over the crowd, as a blue-skinned, three-horned demon finished his renditions of 'The Sounds of Silence'. There were quite a large number of demons, some of whom were eyeing her curiously. More importantly for her were the vampires. The ones who had noticed her were watching her will ill concealed disgust. With any luck, one of them would challenge her later and she could get a meal out of this trip.

"You might want to leave while you still have a chance, Baby Girl."

"And you might want to mention to your clients that the 'No Violence' spell you have on this place probably won't hinder me like it does them. I don't think you want me to declare open season on this place, do you?"

Lorne looked at her, as if judging whether she'd actually do it. He must have decided that she would.

"I have to have a little chat with our friend the Tur'nkht demon. Have a drink on me while you wait."

She nodded, and he quickly left her. She felt a tingle of awareness as she placed her drink order, and slowly turned around to scan the bar again. She felt it. The presence of another. But it was weak. One who was not yet made Immortal. Her attention was drawn to the man who'd taken the stage with a guitar in his hands. He smiled in her general direction as he made certain the instrument was in tune, his reddish brown hair falling in his face.

"Miss? Your drink?"

From the exasperated tone, Cariss guessed the bartender had been trying to get her attention for awhile. She took the drink, thanking him, and when she turned back around, the man on the stage had begun to play. Cariss smiled as she recognized the opening cords. He smiled, and it took her a moment to realize he was looking directly at her this time.

_It's late in the evening_

_She's wondering what clothes to wear_

_She puts on her makeup_

_And brushes her long brown hair_

Wait a minute. That wasn't right. Cariss knew the lyrics to this song by heart. Hell, she'd known Clapton when he wrote it. His muse had been blonde.

_I'll say yes_

_You look wonderful tonight_

Did he just wink at her? Cariss took a large sip of her drink. Yes, he'd definitely winked at her.

_We'll go to a party_

_And everyone turns to see_

_This beautiful lady_

_Who's walking around with me_

"He's good, isn't he?"

"Excellent. Does he know what he is?"

Lorne had spoken to her absently, but now turned almost as much attention on her as on the singer.

"I didn't think you could tell, if they haven't already died."

"I think I'm the only one who can. It gets easier, the longer you've been around. But you didn't answer me. Does he know?"

"That he's not 100% human? No, he doesn't know."

Cariss continued to watch him as he sang. Lorne couldn't help but notice that his singer didn't take his eyes off of her.

"You're up after Lindsey, so you might want to choose a song."

She tore her eyes away from the man on stage, who was still staring at her as he sang.

"What?"

"You might want to choose a song. Once Cutie Pie is done singing to you, it's your turn."

"I don't sing."

"Well, I can't read you if you don't sing. If you want some answers, you have to give us a little tune."

"I know you can read me, Lorne. Don't bull shit me."

"Look, you want answers? So does everyone else in here. You have to sing for your supper, just like they do. So go pick a song."

Cariss glared at him, but he refused to budge. She heard the man-Lindsey, wasn't it?-start on the third verse, and knew she was running out of time.

"Remind me why I don't just beat the answers out of you?"

"Because you promised our mutual friend you wouldn't. And because it would be a shame to damage Armani."

Cariss gave Lorne one final dirty look, before grabbing the catalog he offered her, and choosing a song. Armani my ass, who does he think he's fooling? It wasn't hard to find a song she liked, and by the time Lindsey was finished, she was ready. He winked at her again as she passed him going up on the stage. If she didn't learn anything useful once this was over, she was going to kill Lorne, and Methos for sending her to him. 

_You took your coat off_

_And stood in the rain_

_You were always crazy like that_

_And I watched from my window_

_Always felt I was outside_

_Looking in on you_

Lorne was in conversation when Cariss started singing, but he trailed off when he started reading her.

_You were always the mysterious one _

_With dark eyes and careless hair_

_You were fashionably sensitive_

_But too cool to care_

_You stood in my doorway _

_With nothing to say_

_Besides some comment on the weather_

"Lorne?"

Lindsey was looking from the green demon to the woman he'd only moments ago been singing to. It wasn't like Lorne to stop in the middle of a discussion.

"Give me a minute, kid."

This was big. Really big. He could see why Methos had sent her to Caritas; she had no ideah why she was here, and this was massive. He admired the fact that she'd come so far with so little information. It almost made him respect Immortals that she would leave everything and fly across continents because she knew a family member was in possible trouble. Everyone should be so lucky to have that kind of family.

_Your philosophy is an art_

_Baroque moved you _

_You loved Mozart_

_And you'd speak of your loved ones_

_As I clumsily strummed my guitar_

_You'd teach me in all these things_

_Things that were daring_

_Things that were clean_

_Things that knew what an honest dollar did me_

_I hid my soiled hands behind my back_

_Somewhere along the line _

_I must have gone off track with you_

Lorne looked from Cariss to Lindsey. She'd never seen the man before tonight, Lorne was certain of it, and yet somehow Lindsey was a part of whatever was going on in Sunnydale. This was not good.

"Lorne?"

"Do yourself a favor, Lindsey. Get out of L.A. Get out of California," he couldn't help but try to warn the man. It wasn't every day that he got someone in his club who had the voice the former attorney did.

"I just got back."

"I know. But trust me, you'll be a lot better off if you leave. Right this minute."

"You want me to leave. Right now. Lorne, what's going on?"

_You took your coat off_

_And stood in the rain_

_You were always crazy like that_

The song ended and most of the patrons, even the ones who'd been glaring daggers at her were now applauding. Cariss stepped off the stage and joined Lorne and Lindsey at the bar.

"You know, Sweetie, maybe you should consider a career change. I could make a killing off you."

"No thanks. I did the lounge singer thing once already. Just tell me what I need to know."

"Lindsey McDonald, meet- Sorry, Methos didn't tell me your name."

"Siobhan McLeod."

'Siobhan McLeod, Lindsey McDonald. Another talented singer, like yourself."

"Yes, I heard Mr. McDonald. You're quite good, and I hate to interrupt, but Lorne needs to talk, now."

"Look, my advice to you—don't go to Sunnydale. Trust me, you don't want to find the answers you're looking for."

"Lorne, I'll be careful. Just tell me which member of clan Aurelius is there."

"I don't know which one is there. You'd have to talk to a member of clan Aurelius, they'd probably know if one of their own is on the Hellmouth."

Great. Just what she wanted to hear. She'd hoped to avoid a visit to the L.A. branch of the family. Damn. She didn't want to have to see Liam.

"Where can I find him then?"

"Find who, Sweet Cheeks?"

"Angel, Lorne. Where can I find Angel? I know you know him, so tell me where I can find him."

"In Hell, hopefully," Lindsey muttered under his breath, but Cariss hear him, and gave him another look. It would appear that he had a history with her sire. That could be very useful information.

"We're not that lucky, handsome."

"Look, honey, just go back home. If you go to Sunnydale, no matter how it ends, it won't be a happy ending for you."

"Just tell me where he is, Lorne, and I won't end up having to break a promise to my oldest friend."

Lorne could see that she wouldn't be put off. Oh well, he'd tried. He wrote down Angels address, and told the bartender to give both Lindsey and Siobhan another round on the house. He just hoped that she came out of this in one piece. If anything happened to her, Methos might just come to L.A. and kill him.


	3. Chapter 3

**A/N: Okay, so this chapter is devoted almost entirely to Willow and Spike, and Sunnydale, since it didn't really show up in the last one. As always, reviews are appreciated, and of course, I own nothing.**

Welcome to Sunnydale. The sign looked somewhat the worse for wear. Cariss could see paint missing from identical locations on both posts, as if it had been hit by a car or seven. She could also see structural damage to the posts. Perhaps they should reconsider the location of their welcome sign.

"This is Hellmouth?" she asked herself. It looked like the Mayberry of California. Honestly. This place boasted a vampire and demon population? She half expected June Cleaver to step out of one of the houses she passed.

It started to look like a Hellmouth when she passed three cemeteries within five minutes. Now it made more sense. She noticed that every cemetery she passed was hosting a funeral. Hopefully that mean some foolish newborn vamps would emerge from their graves tonight. She was hungry. She'd been too preoccupied the night before to track a stray vamp, so she hadn't fed in nearly a week. She was getting close to her limit. If she could catch one just rising, it would be so much easier.

She made a mental note to come back tonight, and continued on her tour of Sunnydale. She needed to know all of the places humans gathered' the vampires would be there as well. Cariss memorized the location of the university, the high school, a coffee shop called "The Espresso Pump" and a club of some sort called "The Bronze". The Bronze would certainly seem to be the most likely place to begin her search.

With any luck, she could find this member of Clan Aurelius, and put an end to whatever had the Watchers concerned enough to work together in relatively little time. If she had to spend too much time in this hamlet, she just might stake herself.

Willow stepped into the Bronze, scanning the crowd for Buffy or Spike. She'd gotten her test back from her History professor, and she'd gotten an 'A'. She couldn't wait to share the good news. Xander and Anya wer e sitting at a table, but Willow knew neither of them would really share in her excitement. In all honesty even Buffy wouldn't fully get it, although she would lay on plenty of enthusiasm. Sadly, none of the Scoobies could really share in her love of academia. Tamping down her disappointment, she joined the pair at the table.

"Hey Wills!" Xander greeted her happily. Anya, ever possessive of her fiancé, greeted Willow with slightly less, though still genuine, enthusiasm.

"Hey Willow."

"Anya."

"So, how was your day? I can ask that, right? As longs as I don't ask about sex, I can generally ask about her day. Can't I?"

She looked to Xander for confirmation, and Willow bit back a smile. Anya had yet to grasp the finer points of acceptable public conversation. A millennium as a vengeance demon pretty much guaranteed that she had no filter.

"My day was good, Anya. I got my History midterm back, and I got an 'A'!"

"Great, Willster!"

The smile on Xander's face was too big, and he was too heavy on the enthusiasm, but Willow still smiled. Her goofy best friend could always make her smile.

"Yay, Willow. But you're a genius, so why were you worried?" was Anya's comment. Willow just took it in stride.

"Buffy not here yet?"

"Nope. Something about patrolling with Riley."

Wonderful. If she was patrolling with Riley, so much for her coming to The Bronze. Riley's return had brought about a lot of changes, but his relationship with Buffy had picked up as if it never ended. Once they finished patrolling, they would end up back at Buffy's house, or wherever Riley was living.

"Look, I'm pretty tired, so I think I'll just call it an early night tonight."

She stood, but Xander grabbed her arm and kept her at the table.

"No way Wills! You just got here. We have to celebrate your 'A'! Now, what do you want to drink? I'm getting us some drinks."

Xander jumped up from his seat while simultaneously pushing Willow down into an empty chair. He was gone to get drinks before either girl could object. Willow and Anya sat for a moment in awkward silence.

"So, what was the big deal with this history test?" Anya asked, genuinely curious. She'd never known Willow to stress about school work. The redhead just coasted through anything that was thrown at her.

"It was just a midterm, but it was a class that wasn't one of my best. Give me science or math, or demons trying to open up a Hellmouth, but regular human history, and I'm only okay."

"But you got an 'A'. How's that only okay? That's like saying an orgasm is only okay sex."

Willow ignored the sexual reference. It wasn't really Anya's fault she couldn't have a conversation without some sexual remark. Oh wait, yes it was. Still, Willow knew better than to be surprised when they came.

"I'm pretty sure the only reason I did so well was because of Spike's help. Otherwise, I would have ended up with a 'B', or God forbid a 'C'."

"Yes, because that would be the end of the world. Wait a minute, when did Spike get all helpful?"

"The night before the test, he walked me back to the dorm after patrol, so that Buffy could hang out with Riley. He gave me an overview of the British view of the French and Indian War. Professor Lewis loved the essay. Spike was really helpful."

"Alright, Willow! A history tutorial with Spike! So, how good was he? He looks like he'd be great in bed."

"He was-wait a minute. What?"

Willow looked at her friend, confused. How had they gone from her history test to Spike and sex?

"There was no sex with Spike, Anya."

"Why on earth not? He's gorgeous, and with all his years he's gotta have plenty of experience. I mean, I know Drusilla never complained."

"Okay, that's so not a mental image I want in my head."

"Dru never complained about what?"

Willow froze when she heard that familiar voice. He had to pick now to show up? Of course he did, this was Spike they were talking about.

"Nothing. Nothing at all. Weren't talking about you or anything, just my midterm, which I got an 'A' on, by the way so thank you very much, but that's –"

"Breathe, Pet, before you pass out or something," Spike cut her off mid babble. It was kind of cure to watch her ramble, but if she wasn't cut off, she could go on endlessly. Bloody hell, did he just think it was cute? He really was turning into a nancy boy.

"So, what were you really talking about?" he asked Anya.

"Sex with you," she answered bluntly. He almost choked on the drink he had to his lips. They'd been talking about him, and sex? As in, a good old shagging session between Spike and a Scooby? How in the hell did they get on to that subject?

"What? Don't tell me you finally told them all about our mad affair, Red. You know I wanted to be there for that," he teased, watching Willow's face flush almost as red as her hair.

"Willow! Why are you holding out on me? We're supposed to be friends, aren't we?" Anya whined as Xander returned with their drinks.

"So what are we talking about? Hey, Deadboy Junior." Xander passed cups to Willow and Anya, before taking a long draft from his own.

"Willow and Spike are having hot nasty sex and she didn't even tell me! Friends tell things like that! Does she not like me anymore?"

Anya looked to Xander for an explanation of why Willow wouldn't share such a secret. Xander DID choke on his drink, and Spike helpfully pounded his back until he was able to breathe again. If he enjoyed being able to hit the boy a little more than he should, well, no one needed to know that.

"She's joking, right Wills? Please tell me she's joking." Xander turned pleading eyes to his best friend.

"Yes, she's joking Xander. Spike and I are not having hot nasty sex," she reassured him.

"No, just the regular kind."

"Not helping Spike."

Willow smacked the vampire in the back of the head when Xander started to choke again.

"Why would I help want to help when it's so entertaining to watch Xapper?"

She smacked him in the back of the head a second time.

"Oi! Will you stop hitting me in the head! Woman!"

"Sorry. I guess that one was a little hard," she smiled sheepishly.

"You know, if I didn't have this sodding chip in my head I'd drain you for that."

"But you do have that magic chip, so we can all rest safely tonight," Xander quipped. Spike just glared at him before he got the feeling of being watched. He knew that feeling, and he didn't like it. He looked around the club, unable to shake the feeling.

As his gaze passed over the club, he froze when he saw the woman at the bar. What on earth was she doing here? Last he'd heard, she was in Europe somewhere. If she was here, that could only mean trouble. As he was staring at her, she turned, and looked directly at him. She smiled, and nodded, and he turned back to the group he was sitting with.

"Not that this hasn't been fun, but I think it's time to say goodnight. You going to stay, Red, or should I take you back to the dorm so we can keep our mad shagging going?"

Xander sputtered again as Willow glared at Spike, but she gathered her things and said goodnight. She was a little tired, and she would need someone to walk her back to the dorm. She'd promised Buffy she wouldn't go anywhere by herself. There had been a major surge in vampire activity recently.

"You know you're going to give Xander nightmares of the two of us having sex," she scolded Spike as they left the Bronze. "He's probably already imagining us naked."

"Nightmare? I hardly think shagging you would be a nightmare, Pet. It would be fun."

"Would you think it was fun if you had dreams of Xander and Anya having sex? I don't think so."

Spike grimaced at the mental image that was now seared onto his brain. Then he noticed that while Willow had said Xander might have nightmares of the two of them, she'd shown no such disgust at the thought of sleeping with him.

"So, Red-"

"What?"

"I'm still up for a good shag if you are."

"Ha ha, very funny, Spike."

"What does that mean?"

"Oh, come on, Spike. I know you don't really want to have sex with me."

Willow continued walking, not noticing that Spike stopped in his tracks and stood watching her.. He was amazed. He could tell that she really believed that he didn't want her.

"I wouldn't say it if I didn't mean it, luv."

Willow stopped walking, and turned around to look at him, disbelief evident on her face.

"But- but you hate me."

"What? Where did you get that idea? You're the only one of the lot I can stand."

"And that makes you want to sleep with me? The fact that I'm the only one you can stand?"

Spike just looked at her. She really had no clue how much he wanted her. That in his mind, he'd already claimed her.

"You remember when I broke into your dorm after I escaped those commandos?"

Willow nodded.

"Of course. You couldn't—perform—because they'd put that chip in you."

"And do you remember when I told you that if I could, I'd definitely bite you? And that you wouldn't have to stay dead?"

Willow nodded again, wondering where he was going with this train of thought.

"Luv, do you really think I would go to all that trouble of turning you if I didn't want to shag you senseless?"

Willow seemed to consider that for a moment.

"Really?"

"Really really."

Willow smiled, a smile that lit her entire face, and continued walking.

"Is it weird that I'm flattered that you wanted to kill me?"

"Not at all, pet," Spike answered her, loosely slinging an arm around her shoulder.


	4. Chapter 4

**A/N: Thanks to everyone who reviewed and/or added to this to their Alert list! Makes me feel like I'm not just talking to the voices in my head now. As always, if you saw it in Buffy, Angel, or Highlander, I don't own it, I'm just playing with it. If you didn't see it on TV, then it really was mine. **

Cariss followed the pair at an easy distance. She knew that William was well aware that she was behind them; she hadn't attempted to conceal her presence. She also knew that since they'd acknowledged each other at The Bronze, he'd expect her to trail him.

She was curious about the girl he was walking with. She was completely mortal, but showed no fear of the master vampire. At the club she'd even become physically violent with him, hitting him more than once. William never hit back, he didn't even vamp out. Why was he spending so much time with humans? He'd never been like Angelus, playing mind games with is victims. William preferred physical torture.

Cariss was surprised to see that their destination was a college dorm. The mortal girl lived here? It must be true, since he walked the girl to the door and said goodnight. What game was William playing? And where was Drusilla? The pair had been inseparable, last time she'd known them.

"I know you're there, Cariss. You might as well come over."

Cariss stepped out of the shadows and steadily made her way to the bleached blonde vampire.

"William. So, you're stalking college coeds now? Doesn't seem your style."

"Things change, luv. You know that. It's been what—eighty years, hasn't it?"

"Something like that. You always did have an excellent memory. Where's Dru?"

Spike pulled a cigarette from his duster pocked and lit it.

"Don't know. Don't bloody care," he told her, taking a long drag, then lazily exhaling.

"It's good to see you, Cariss."

"And you. It really has been too long."

Without warning, she was enveloped in a crushing hug, which she returned eagerly.

"I've missed you, luv. You know you didn't have to leave."

"Of course I did, Will. Too many of the younger ones tried to kill me. You know, the whole 'vampires and Immortals killing each other' instinct still runs deep in all of us, even if some of us are better at ignoring it. Besides, I had to leave before Darla and I tried to kill each other. We never could put up with each other without Angelus—"she trailed off, not needing to relive the past. Instant hatred and loathing had sprung up the first time they'd ever met. The peace was only kept when Angelus was around to make certain they kept it.

"Well, Darla's dust now, so you don't have to worry about that."

"Who finally got her? That Slayer I've heard so much about?"

"No. Peaches."

Cariss looked up at him, certain she'd misheard. He couldn't have just said that Liam killed his sire.

"You're not serious, William?"

"Dead serious, Cariss. Darla was going to kill the Slayer, and the Poof had taken a liking to the chit."

"Angel staked Darla," she repeated, as if saying it again made it more real. More believable. Angelus would never have done such a thing as kill a vampire to protect a Slayer. Killing for power wouldn't cause him to so much as bat an eyelash, but Angelus did have his priorities.

Then again, Cariss had to admit that Angel had his own priorities. The return of the soul had turned Angelus into Angel; a more tortured creature Cariss had never seen, not in her long existence. Angel had perfected the human Liam's tendency to brood into an art form. The souled Angel could not accept the actions of the soulless Angelus, deciding he had to atone for things the demon had done had been his natural reaction.

"Staked her to dust. I would love to have seen the look on the Poof's face when he killed his sire, the agony would have been exquisite. You know he doesn't even drink human blood anymore?"

She'd noticed that when she went to see him after leaving Caritas. He'd offered her a drink, and she could tell from his blood that his diet had changed. With so many ways to acquire human blood that didn't involve killing, it made no sense to Cariss, unless it was part of his self-imposed penance. Angel/Angelus/Liam did nothing by halves.

"I know. A bit tragic, in my opinion. But he's doing well for himself. He's starting to remind me more of Liam, just more laconic."

Spike kept an arm around her waist as he walked them away from the dorm. Cariss let him do the guiding for the moment, content to go wherever he wanted.

"I doubt you came all the way here to tell me how the old sire is doing. Last I heard you were in Europe somewhere."

"I've been in London for the last four years. And you're right; I didn't come across an ocean to check in on Liam. What's been going on here recently?"

"What do you mean?"

"Anything unusually strange going on that you noticed?"

Spike looked at her as if she'd gone soft in the head.

"Hellmouth, luv, remember?"

"More than the normal Hellmouth activity, Will. Something big."

"We've notice a lot more vampires running around, but that's the biggest—wait a minute. Why do you want to know? What have you heard?"

"Not much. But something has the Watchers so concerned that both branches are working together. I don't have to tell you how rare that is."

Spike didn't slow his walking, but he was floored. Both branches of the Council working together? This was definitely news. He'd wager that neither Slutty nor her ex-Watcher had any idea what was happening on their turf. This was bad. Something serious was happening, and so far those bloody Scoobies didn't know anything about it. Something serious enough to get Cariss on a plane and across an ocean.

He looked more closely at the woman walking beside him. Something looked off. She was paler than he remembered. And she wasn't quite at full strength, he could tell.

"When did you last feed?" he asked her suddenly. Cariss looked up at him, surprised flitting across her face that he'd noticed anything wrong. She quickly schooled her features into a blank mask.

"I ate earlier today. You know there's a great Mexican place in this town—"

"I'm not talking food, luv, I'm talking blood. When did you last feed?"

"I'm fine, Will."

"Cariss, when?"

She looked at his determined expression and sighed.

"Before I left London," she answered. Lying really wouldn't do any good, much as she might want to avoid the subject. He wouldn't just let it drop.

"And how long have you been out here?"

"I arrived in L.A. the night before last."

"You haven't fed in at least four days?" he asked incredulously, after a quick mental calculation. She tried to pull away from him, but he kept his arm around her, tightening his hold.

"Come on."

He changed direction, heading for a cemetery. He was reasonably confident that the Slayer hadn't gotten to this side of town yet, and he knew there were at least three possible fledglings buried today. She needed blood, and fast.

"You know better than to let yourself go so long, luv. I could probably take you down right now."

"I wouldn't bet on that Will. I think I could still take you on. Besides, it's rather hard to feed when all passengers on the flight are human."

"Let's fix that now, then."

They stopped at the first cemetery they came to, and Spike found the newest resident. Wilkins. Samuel Wilkins. Spike tried to remember just what the cause of death had been for Wilkins. Oh, yes.

"Perfect. Samuel Wilkins exsanguinated. Family members claim he fell while grilling. An unfortunate landing on a meat fork pierced the carotid artery."

"How do you know that, Will? You reading the obituaries now?"

"Nah. Got a friend who hacks into the coroners database."

"Would that be your little mortal."

She remembered the vampires Spike used to associate with. Unless he completely changed the class of vamps he spent time with, she doubted any of them could hack a database.

Spike tensed at Cariss' casual mention of Willow. He didn't want her asking too many questions about the redhead. He didn't think for a minute that Cariss would harm the little witch, but he didn't want Willow at risk (well, more risk) of running into whatever Cariss was investigating.

"That would be her. She comes in useful."

"Useful? Is that what they're calling it these days?" she asked him teasingly. If Spike was capable of blushing, he was sure he would be as red as Willow's hair.

"I'm not shagging her, luv. Not yet anyway."

The discussion was interrupted when Samuel Wilkins decided to finally make an appearance. The sound of moving earth alerted them that he was indeed coming up. The sight of the newly risen vampire set Cariss' mouth watering. She was much thirstier than she'd let on, and the young brunette covered in dirt was irresistible.

The fledgling tried to run, but it was obvious he was still disoriented, and unused to dress shoes. Cariss ran him down easily, and sank her fangs in his neck. The blood was deeply satisfying, and she drained him completely before staking him with the stake Spike offered her. She fleetingly wondered why a vampire was carrying a stake, but she said nothing. She just handed it back to him.

"Here you go. I feel much better now."

"I thought you would. So, where are you staying?"

"I've got a suite at the Hilton."

"Suite? Really? And the Watchers are funding that?"

"I don't work for the bloody Watchers, of either branch. So, my money, my choice of where to stay."

"And you have the money for an extended stay in a suite at the Hilton?"

"William, I'm over eight thousand years old. I've managed to save some money in that time. Besides, you are talking to Siobhan McLeod, surgeon."

"Surgeon? Really?"

"For probably at least another decade."

They left the cemetery, walking in the direction of the Hilton. It took several minutes before Spike spoke again.

"If you're not here for the Watchers, then what are you doing here?"

"I had a friend inside the Watchers. He told me a member of Clan Aurelius was here, so here I am."

"You came here for me?" he looked at her in disbelief.

"Well, I didn't know it was you until I arrived, but yes, I came."

"I feel all warm and fuzzy inside."

Cariss lightly smacked him in the head at that comment, and they walked in companionable silence into the streets of downtown Sunnydale. The town was busier than Cariss had expected, considering what Sunnydale was. It never ceased to amaze her how clueless humans could be when it came to what happened all around them.

"You want to come up? I have good bourbon."

"You just said the magic word, luv. Lead the way."

Spike almost froze as he sensed Buffy close by. Cariss didn't seem to notice, but then, she could easily miss it. She didn't normally have to worry about Slayers, so her senses weren't as developed. His hesitation was so minute that Cariss missed it, and they continued into the lobby of the hotel, drawing glances from some of the employees. A short elevator ride later, and they were in the penthouse suite.

"The penthouse. You really must have money to be staying here."

"I wasn't lying, Will. I'm loaded right now. Bourbon?"

She opened the full service bar and pulled out a bottle, and tossed it. Spike caught it effortlessly, and opened it as she took out tow glasses.

"Pour while I get changed, will you?"

Spike filled two glasses as Cariss disappeared into the bedroom. She returned a moment later, dressed for bed, and accepted the glass he handed her. He drank his, savoring the alcohol as it slid down his throat, then checked his watch.

"It's not even 2 am. Bit early for you to call it a night, isn't it?"

"I'm just getting comfortable, William. Unlike you, I actually have to get some sleep tonight."

"Right. I forget that you need sleep. So what's your plan?"

"Find out what's going on, then stop it."

He refilled both their glasses, and they downed them again. Cariss was right. This was good bourbon. Better than he'd had in awhile. Much better than anything he'd find in the bars.

"Sounds like a plan. And what do you need me to do?"

"Just keep an eye and ear open for anything unusual. And, if you can keep the Slayer off my back, that would be good."

"I think I can help you out there. Keep the little twit busy."

She didn't have to know he would keep the Slayer busy by helping her patrol. Spike wasn't ready for her to know what had happened to him just yet. He wasn't sure how she'd handle it.

"Good. Now, refill it."

"You planning to finish the whole bottle?"

"That would be why I invited you up here. Pour."

"You know, I've never seen you drunk before. What's the occasion?"

"Anniversary. Two hundred and forty eight years ago, I burned an entire village to the ground, killing everyone in it."

Spike looked at her, not certain he'd heard her correctly. She couldn't have said what he thought she just said. Not Cariss.

"Tell me that's a bad joke, please?"

"I'm afraid not. But it's a story for another time. Now. Pour. A. Drink."

Spike poured, and was happy to see her eyes getting heavy. Getting drunk over something that happened two hundred and fifty years ago was not a good idea.

"I'm tired of remembering everything, Will," she said softly, and Spike knew she didn't actually intend for him to hear it.

"I know, luv. I know."


	5. Chapter 5

"Willow, have you seen Riley? He was supposed to meet us for lunch."

Willow looked up, surprised. Buffy hadn't mentioned anything about lunch with Riley before. Willow had thought it was just going to be girl time. She could definitely use some best-girlfriend-bonding time. Apparently that wasn't happening.

"I haven't seen him. Maybe he got busy, or something happened and he's running late?"

"Yeah, I guess."

The two young women made their way through the line, trying to choose the least objectionable food. College food was better than high school, but it still had that institutional flavor.

"Maybe tomorrow I'll bring something from home," Buffy commented as she picked up an apple. "I can make something extra for myself when I make lunch for Dawn."

"Yeah, I seriously thought about going back to the house just to cook."

"Wills, is there even anything IN that refrigerator?" Buffy asked her friend as they paid for their food and make their way to a table. The cafeteria was usually crammed full of students, and today was no exception. Buffy and Willow managed to grab one of the last empty tables they saw.

"My parents just got back in town last week, so yes, there is food in their fridge."

"And when do they leave again?"

"Tomorrow. I think they have some conference in Boston."

Willow gave her attention to her food, and for a few minutes both girls were silent, focused on eating their lunch. Willow used her quiet time to wonder how her friend was doing. Buffy had returned to UC Sunnydale part time, picking up a few classes while Dawn was at school. It wasn't a full load or anything, but it was a start. Things had been really bad for awhile after Joyce died. Riley being gone hadn't helped any. Willow personally thought his coming back was a good thing, even if it meant she saw less of her friend.

"You know, it's probably a good thing that Riley didn't join us. We need to have a good long gossip."

"Ooh, gossip. Do you have anything good to share?" Willow leaned forward conspiratorially. She did like gossip, when it was generally harmless, and it had been awhile since she'd had a gossip with Buffy.

"Not really. Riley's been great, and things are good."

"Just good? Not mind blowing, or awesome, or incandescent, just good? That's disappointing."

"Incandescent? Way to pull out the big words there, Wills. I guess things are better than just good."

"How much better?"

Willow grinned as Buffy blushed and picked up her cup, taking a long drink.

"Better. We're talking about him maybe moving in."

Willow's eyes grew wide, and the look on her face was priceless. Buffy smiled at her friend's expression. Good. At least Willow would be happy for her. Buffy had no doubt that Xander would blow a fuse when he found out. Almost as badly as he had when he'd given her his unbelievable news last night.

"Moving in? And you didn't tell me? What? When? How?"

Buffy had to stifle a giggle when Willow fell speechless, and took pity on her friend.

"Moving into the extra bedroom. It would be good to have someone else around to help with Dawn. You know, someone male."

"And Dawn's okay with the idea."

"Dawn thinks it's great, having another person there. And she likes Riley, so it's a plus. But I was actually thinking of you, and gossip. I heard from Xander and Anya that you and Spike are having hot, nasty sex."

Willow spit out the drink she'd been drinking, hitting Buffy in the face with soda before she started choking. Anya had said that to Buffy? Was she trying to get Spike staked? The look in Buffy's eyes demanded an answer, and Willow had a feeling that Spike's continued existence depended on what Willow said next. Was Buffy jealous? She looked unusually serious, despite her joking tone.

"Yes, Buffy. Spike and I are having hot, nasty sex."

She said it deadpan, and it was Buffy's turn to spit out her drink. She hadn't actually expected Willow to say that. She'd expected her to be as repulsed by the idea as she was, not claiming to have a sex romp with an evil vampire.

"Are we talking about the same Spike?" Buffy asked, hoping against hope that there was another Spike that Willow just hadn't talked about, and that Anya was somehow mistaken.

"Really hot, bleached blonde hair, British?"

"I was thinking more along the lines of completely evil, likes to eat people for lunch, soulless, neutered, has issues with the sunlight. That Spike?"

"Yep. Same Spike."

Willow didn't think Buffy's jaw could drop any lower, but somehow it did. All the color drained from her face and she stood up. Willow grabbed Buffy's wrist to keep her friend from going after Spike at that very moment.

"Kidding, Buffy. Spike just said that to Anya and Xander to get a reaction out of them. You know how he is."

The look of utter relief on Buffy's face was almost comical. Willow would have laughed, and had to fight to hold back a giggle.

"I should have known. I mean, come one, you and Spike? Hot sex? Only in an alternate reality."

Buffy started to giggle, and Willow's smile slipped. Just what did Buffy mean by that? That Spike could only want her in some strange, parallel universe?

"Uh-"

"Oh, Willow, I didn't mean it like that! I meant that you're too good for Spike! You can do so much better than an evil demon. That's what I meant!" Buffy hurried to reassure her friend. She could tell the instant she spoke, from the look on Willow's face, that she'd somehow said something wrong. A quick inventory of All Things She Knew About Willow told her how the other girl would be likely to take that statement.

"It's okay, Buffy. I get it. I know what you meant."

"Good. So anyway, I was a terrible friend last night, leaving you to go off with Riley. So, tonight, Girls Night Out. No excuses."

That sounded like the Buffy they all knew and loved. Willow couldn't help but smile, was more Buffy than they'd seen since Joyce died. It was good to see.

"Alright. Girls Night Out. Movies, ice cream, food."

"Talking about hot guys, dancing, driving the males of the species up the wall with the hotness of us."

"Umm, Buffy—"

"Males or females, either way. But you're not getting out of it. Tonight, we're letting loose."

Willow couldn't do anything more than agree, when faced with Buffy Enthusiasm. It was almost as impossible to resist as the Resolve Face. Tonight, she would be going out with Buffy, no doubt after a Buffy makeover.

Cariss was growing restless. She'd spent all of her morning sleeping, and most of her afternoon on her laptop, searching for something, anything that might tell her why she was here. So far, she was hitting a dead end.

Nothing she'd found indicated anything unusual, considering that this was a Hellmouth. All incidents she could link to Sunnydale had explanations—well, cover ups really—that were semi-believable, but more importantly, could be attributed to normal Hellmouth activity.

Her search into the coroner's office database and the Sunnydale Observer's obituaries revealed new graves that would need to be checked out, but apart from that, Cariss was bored. And Cariss bored was not a good thing.

The clock read 5:30, too soon to track down any vamps; sunset wasn't for another two hours. What was she supposed to do with herself for two hours? Her stomach growling brought her attention to the fact that she hadn't had food in almost twenty four hours. She might be able to get away with feeding every couple of days, but she needed to eat every day. Especially if she wasn't getting blood every day. At least she could remedy that.

She grabbed the room service menu and glanced through it, looking for something that sounded appetizing. She finally settled on a bacon burger and called down to place her order. By the time she quickly showered and changed out of her pajamas into jeans and a button down shirt, her food had arrived. A healthy tip to the delivery boy meant that she was quickly left alone again.

She pulled up her laptop as she ate, broadening her search. It could be that she needed to look for something other than bodies. She didn't actually know what she was searching for here, other than missing vampires. Methos hadn't had any more details when she met him in London before coming to the States, and Lorne wasn't incredibly helpful.

All she really knew was that it involved clan Aurelius, which meant William. If it came down to it, she may have to just follow him around, something she was fairly certain she didn't want to do. Not if he spent most of his time with a mortal girl he wasn't even shagging yet.

It was when she hacked into the Sunnydale police files that she saw it. A rash of missing persons. More than was typical for a Hellmouth. It might not be related to the Watchers concern, but it was the first solid clue she had. A missing person could be linked to vampires. They didn't always leave their victims to be found by the humans. Especially if the victim was chosen to become a Childe.

"That's an awful lot of possible Childer, if that what's going on," she murmured to herself as she continued to scan the reports. Could that be it? Would the Watchers show such concern over a vampire trying to increase their family? She supposed it was possible. But what did that have to do with Will? Cariss was certain that he wasn't behind the disappearances. So what was it? What was she missing?

She cursed the lack of resources. Her laptop was great for hacking into coroner's reports and police files, but actual demon research? In her opinion, books were still the best bet. Most websites related to demons, or the occult, were woefully inadequate, if not outright fictitious. The most she could say was that they were entertaining.

If she was London, she could easily break into the Watchers premises, and help herself to what she needed. Here, she would have try a different route. She really needed to find this Slayer. If she could get a hold on the Watcher's books, she would have a much better chance at finding what she needed.

The ringing of her cell phone diverted her attention, and she searched through the items on the nightstand until she found it. She squinted at the screen. Did she know that number?

"Hello?"

"It's me, luv. I was just calling to see how you were doing after your all night drink-a-thon."

Methos. Of course. He knew the date, and he knew all about her once yearly drinking binge. He even knew exactly whey she'd destroyed that village all those years ago. Often, he was her drinking partner.

"I actually didn't get that bad. I had help to polish off the Bourbon. Thanks for the bottle, by the way."

"Any time."

She could hear the smile in Methos' voice, and pictured him sprawled out on a couch as he gave her a hard time over her activities. He didn't object to her getting drunk, he objected when she got drunk alone. To him it just wasn't worth it unless there was someone to shag once you were completely inebriated. The fact that she never slept with him after getting drunk didn't deter him, he figured it was just a matter of time.

"Tell me that you didn't know it was William here. Tell me that you didn't know, and conceal it from me."

She hadn't been able to shake the nagging thought that Methos knew more than he'd told her the day he sent her here. Cariss wanted to believe that he was smarter than to omit something so important, but with that man, she really couldn't tell sometimes.

"I promise, Cariss. I didn't know. If I knew it was someone so close to you, I would have told you. I only knew it involved clan Aurelius."

"And you're sure that vampires are going missing? I've spent my entire afternoon researching, and I haven't found anything abnormal for a Hellmouth. Certainly nothing to get both Watcher houses in an uproar."

"I wouldn't have sent you unless I was sure, luv. You know that. The Watchers are worried because vampires are going missing at a rate that can't be attributed to the Slayer."

Cariss made a note to bring that up with Will the next time she saw him. If the Watchers were concerned, it had to be massive. If that was the real reason for their concern. Something about this didn't ring true in her head.

"Wait a tic, Methos. Why are both branches of the Council so concerned over vamps disappearing? What does that have to do with us?"

"I'm looking into that, luv. Have you found anything?"

"Just a rash of missing persons that haven't resulted in found bodies."

"Could that have anything to do with vampires?"

"It could. These people might have been recruited to the dark side, as it were. Turned."

"But, if they were turned, why would they still be missing? Shouldn't they have to be buried?"

Cariss shook her head at Methos' question. They'd covered this material many times in the centuries she'd been dealing with drinking blood. His initial horror over what happened to her was quickly overcome by his normal curiosity, and he never missed an opportunity to ask all manner of questions. Cariss mentally groaned before launching into an explanation, again.

"No, Methos. Remember, not every vampire decides on a burial for a new turn. Many of the Masters bypass that altogether, when making a Childe. If they just want a minion, then sure, they'll dump the body so it can buried, and make them claw their way out of the ground."

"But so many of them come from graves—"

"The newer vampires like the symbolism."

"So what are you thinking?"

"At this point, all I have are conjectures," she told him honestly. She didn't want him sharing her theories with the Watchers before she had real proof. She didn't know what their plans were, but she knew they would only get in her way.

"Look, I've gotta go luv. I'll call you when I know anything."

She hung up before he could object. None of this was making sense to her, and she wanted to sort it out before she talked to Methos again. Something about his wasn't right. She didn't trust the Watchers Council, either branch.

**A/N: So, this chapter didn't come out precisely as I thought it would, but it seemed like a good place to end it. I had to get Buffy's reaction to the thought of Spike/Willow in there. Would love to hear other people's thoughts, as I can't always trust what my Rice Krispies tell me. They love everything I do.**


	6. Chapter 6

**A/N: Okay, I'm a terrible person. All I can say is so so so so so so so so so sorry for the hiatus! I honestly didn't realize that it had been so long since I updated this. Unfortunately, which anyone who's read anything else of mine will have noticed, I have a ton of stuff rolling around in my head, which makes it nearly impossible to just focus on, and finish, one thing at a time. I do promise that it won't take months to get up the next chapter! Hopefully, the extra long chapter makes up for ti, slightly. Reviews, as always, are greatly appreciated, even if I don't have time to reply to them all. Seriously, I'm started to become addicted to them.**

"This is a bad idea", the shorter of the two men said to his companion as they made their way carefully through the dark hallways of the run down house.

"You said that before, but it's working perfectly. And I don't recall you objecting when the plan was first proposed. Stop your whining."

"I'm simply pointing out the threat to all of us, Marshall. This isn't Prague. Or Brasil. This time we're on a Hellmouth. With a Slayer! And you want to take even more vampires?"

"We have to find the vampire of the Aurelius bloodline. We'll go through as many as it takes. You agreed to this, Roland."

Roland looked up at Marshall, who ducked under a blackened beam that blocked the archway. They were fortunate to have found this house, with the underground bunker. It had been Marshall who first discovered it, and they immediately decided it would suit their purposes. They didn't know who had previously used the space, but it was perfect for their needs. The containment area was pretty well intact, providing the ideal location to keep the vampires they captured while they tested them.

"I know I agreed to this, Marshall, but that was before we learned that the Slayer was still in the area. A disappearing vampire population is something that would get her attention. We can't afford to be discovered."

Marshall ignored him as he opened the door to the elevator shaft. All of the original surface entries to the bunker had been destroyed. It had taken two weeks to install ladders so that they could get down. Then had come the arduous task of creating another access tunnel so that they could bring their captives in easily. Marshall saw it as an indication that their cause was blessed.

"We won't be discovered down here, Roland," he finally spoke to his friend as he climbed down the last rung of the ladder and stepped onto the concrete floor. Both men were breathing heavily by the time they reached the ground. It was a long climb down.

"No one will find us down here. And we will find the vampire that belongs to the order of Aurelius. Once we have that blood, everything will fall into place."

"Or it could end as badly as St. Petersburg did."

"St. Petersburg was unfortunate, but casualties are to be expected. We are bringing a prophecy to fruition, and we will have a powerful weapon in our hands. I have everything under control, Roland."

"You know something, Marshall? I'm sure the last people to use this facility thought they had everything under control too."

Roland left it at that. He didn't need to remind Marshall of the carnage they found when they first discovered this place. Whatever had taken place here, something had gone horribly wrong.

"That won't happen here. I have it in hand."

"Even him?"

Roland gestured to the window they stopped at. In the lab on the other side of the glass, vampires were strapped to tables and chained to walls, and a man in a lab coat moved among them. Roland cringed as he viciously grabbed a vampire by the neck and plunged in a syringe, withdrawing a vial of blood.

"I don't trust him, Marshall. He's not one of us." 

"He is crucial to our mission, Roland. He has been chosen. That's all we need to know."

Buffy shook her head as she was knocked into a mausoleum. As before, it looked like the entire vampire population had turned up at this cemetery. This was the second time she'd been caught off guard by the number of vampires in the area.

She looked over at Riley, who was holding his own against two vampires. Good. She had her hands full with three. If he was in trouble, she wouldn't have been able to get to him. She almost wished some of the others were here to help out. Maybe she should have called Spike. Much as she hated him, he was useful against other vamps.

"How are you doing over there?"

"Nothing like a good fight to get the blood pumping," Riley answered as he finally got one of the vamps attacking him.

"I know the feeling," Buffy agreed as she kicked a vampire away from her and onto a tombstone. Wasting no time, she plunged her steak into it's heart, and it exploded into dust.

It was while she was fighting off another vampire who decided to join the fray that she noticed something. Kelly Parker's grave was breaking up. The vampire she'd come to stake was climbing up out of her grave. It almost looked to Buffy like the others were waiting for her.

Her theory proved correct. As soon as the new fledgling was free of her earthen prison, all of the vampires ran off, leaving Buffy and Riley stunned. All of that, just for a new rising?

"Is this some new thing Like visiting a maternity ward? All the members of the family show up for delivery now?"

"I don't know, Buffy."

"This is the second time this has happened in less than a week."

"Maybe it's time for some research then. We'll find out why every vamp in Sunnydale is suddenly showing up."

"Yes, we will. We should go see Giles."

"We probably should."

Riley pulled Buffy into an embrace; with a grin that told her Giles was the last person on his mind. Buffy smiled back at him.

"We really should do that."

"We really should."

Any thought of telling Giles disappeared when their lips met in a kiss. After a minute, their thoughts didn't extend past getting back to the Summers house. The news could wait until the morning. Or maybe the afternoon.

Cariss scanned the crowd at the Bronze, looking for William. She didn't see him. She didn't see the girl he'd been with, either, though she saw the other mortals that had been at their table that night. Cariss briefly thought of getting closer to them, but decided against it. She doubted she'd get any useful information out of the m. They appeared too absorbed in each other to notice what went on around them. Cariss wondered if they even knew what William was.

Something about the girl looked familiar, enough to have Cariss search her memory. There was no reason for her to know the mortal, she'd never been to Sunnydale before now. But something about her—

Cariss nearly gasped out loud. Anyanka? It shouldn't be possible. But the girl was a dead ringer for the vengeance demon. As if she knew she was being watched, the girl looked up, and looked Cariss directly in the eye. The shocked recognition confirmed that it was indeed Anyanka. Not breaking eye contact, Anyanka excused herself from her—boyfriend? pet?—and met Cariss at the bar.

"Cariss? What are you doing here?"

"I could ask the same of you, Anyanka. You're mortal?"

"It's Anya now. And yes, I'm mortal. My power center was destroyed by the Watcher, and, well, here I am. But why are you here on a Hellmouth? What happened to the whole 'vampires and Immortals are natural enemies' thing?"

Cariss was silent for a moment, wondering just how much she should tell the other woman. She and Anyanka's previous relationship had been one of healthy mistrust of each other. The vengeance demon's interest had been in seeing if she could hurt Immortals as she hurt humans.

"Oh, come on, Cariss. What happened four hundred years ago is beside the point," Anya interrupted her thoughts, knowing what was running through her mind, "besides, when you lost Ewan, did I or did I not offer you vengeance on the magistrate?"

She had a point. For all that they'd tried to hurt each other in the past, Anyanka had offered vengeance when the situation called for it.

"I heard about what you did to that village, by the way. Nice work. D'Hoffryn wanted to offer you a job after that."

"Yeah. Anyway, as to why I'm here, it's a long story. Something's going on here, beyond normal Hellmouth activity. I'm looking into it."

"Does it have anything to do with those missing people?"

Cariss looked at Anya, surprised. She didn't remember the vengeance demon keeping up on current events before. Anya's eyes narrowed.

"I've changed, you know. I have to pay attention to this stuff now that I'm mortal. And I have a fiancé. So I really have to know what's going on. Nothing can happen to him until after we're married."

"Of course." Cariss assumed it was the dark haired young man sitting at the table with her.

"Oh, you have to meet him!"

With that, Anya grabbed Cariss' hand and dragged her back over to the table.

"That might nogt be a good idea, Anya."

"Oh, it's alright. He knows all about demons and stuff."

Cariss was shoved into a chair before she could free herself of Anya's grip, and she found herself meeting the startled gaze of a young black haired man who looked to Cariss like a deer caught in head lights.

"This is Xander. My fiancé."

"Pleasure to meet you. Siobhan McLeod."

"Siobhan. How do you know Anya?"

"Oh, we go way back," Anya interrupted before Cariss could get a word in. Xander looked at her with wariness in his eyes.

"How far back?"

"Far enough."

Her tone of voice said to drop the subject, which Xander was happy to do. She just looked Hellmouthy, and whatever she was, he didn't want to piss her off. She might curse him with some sort of evil STD or something. Especially if she was a vengeance demon, like Anya used to be.

"So, Siobhan, what are you up to these days?" Anya asked, completely missing, or completely disregarding, the awkward tension at the table.

"I'm just in town for a few days, looking into something for a friend. I'm currently a doctor, which is what I'm guessing you wanted to know."

The boy seemed jumpy, nervous. He looked slightly relieved when Cariss said she was only in town for a short time. Perhaps he wasn't as stupid as he looked.

"A doctor? Really? You know, this is really great century to do that. You make SO much more money than you would have a thousand years ago. I mean, seriously, you remember how we would pay in livestock?"

Xander's head turned back and forth between the two women so quickly, Cariss was almost afraid he would give himself whiplash. Damn. Now he knew too much. She would have to silence him.

"Don't even think about it," Anya warned her, her eyes narrowing, "Xander knows a lot of stuff he shouldn't. He also knows how to keep it quiet."

"Sure do. I keep lots of stuff quiet. Have to, being friends with the Slayer and all."

"You know the Slayer?"

Xander swallowed, audibly.

"Did I say Slayer? I meant exterminator. The Cockroach Slayer! Absolutely slays all kinds of creepy crawlies with a vengeance!"

"Alright kid, quit while you're behind. I already knew the Slayer was here. It is a Hellmouth, after all."

Xander was saved from having to answer by the entrance of the redhead. William's "friend". Although this didn't look like the girl Cariss had followed to the dorm. That girl was shy dressing conservatively, acting almost afraid of her own shadow. This girl was dressed in something that was designed to grab and hold a man's attention. So much bare skin, she was practically advertising herself to the vampire population. William would be pissed when he saw it. The boy, Xander, seemed incapable of speech when he saw her.

"Willow—ugh—dress—" was all he was able to say. Anya smacked him in the head, while the girl, who Cariss assumed was Willow, sat down, hunching in on herself and blushing red.

"Buffy made me wear it," she said angrily, " and then she didn't even come. No, she had to go off Slaying with Riley, and—oh no," she trailed off when she finally realized they weren't alone at the table. Cariss could literally see the girls mind racing to come up with a plausible explanation.

"Um, I meant, slaying cockroaches? Buffy's an exterminator?"

Cariss snorted when the girl used the exact excuse the boy had tried earlier.

"It's alright, Willster," Xander said, happy not to be alone in speaking without thinking, "Siobhan here is an old friend of Anya's, and she knows all about Slayers and Hellmouths."

"Buffy? The Slayer's name is Buffy?"

Now Cariss knew this Hellmouth was warped. Honestly, whoever heard of Buffy the Vampire Slayer? Cariss would bet that half of the vamps who got dusted were simply too distracted by "Buffy" to actually pay attention. Only in California.

"Yeah, her name is Buffy," Xander spit out, and Cariss could hear the anger in his voice, "and she could kick your ass, you demon, or whatever you are. She's the longest surviving Slayer in history!"

"Really? And how old is she?" Cariss asked Anya, who'd clapped her hand over Xander's mouth and was quietly warning him to please not piss off her friend.

"Almost twenty one. She's apparently been Slaying since she was sixteen."

"Five years. And you really think she's the longest surviving Slayer in history? What do they teach you kids these days? The longest surviving Slayer in history. That's cute."

"Isn't it?"

Xander stuttered in righteous indignation when Anya agreed with her.

"He means well. He's terribly loyal, which is part of why I like him so much."

"That does have its uses, I suppose. And they are cute at that age. So young, so naïve."

"Who are you calling naïve? We've seen lots of evil things! And we've killed all kinds of demons! And I dated a werewolf!"

Willow's protest sputtered off into babbling, and Cariss smiled. She could see why William liked the girl: she really was cute and innocent, despite what she said.

"What are you doing here?"

Cariss turned at the sound of William behind her. He looked angry, but she couldn't tell if it was directed at her, or at Willow. She decided to just smile at him and sip her drink.

"Siobhan," he growled in warning. So, he was angry at her. Oh well.

"I was having a chat with Willow, and her-delightful-friends, Will."

Did he know that this girl of his spent her free time with the Slayer? If he did, why hadn't he killed the Slayer yet? William always was one for trophy killings. What was he playing at?

"You know Spike?" Xander asked incredulously. That answered that question, and why those would-be Slayers weren't trying to kill him. It did not, however, explain why William hadn't killed them. Willow, she could understand, but Xander? So far he was simply annoying. And Anya? Well, if Cariss had to drink human blood, the former demon would be the first to go.

"William, I already said I wouldn't harm your girl," Cariss stated in Czech, reasonably sure that none of the mortals would know the language, "but you really should tell me what you're doing with these kids."

"It's nothing," he bit out shortly. Damn it, this was the last thing he wanted, for any of these bloody humans to run into Cariss. Especially his Red.

Any answer Cariss may have given was cut off as her attention was drawn to the clubs entrance. She felt the presence of another Immortal, which should not be. Immortals gave the Hellmouths a wide berth. It was safer that way. Things like not aging, or dying, or rally quick healing, tended to get noticed in places where people were already on the lookout for unnatural things. It also didn't help that vampires and Immortals were natural enemies.

"Cariss? What is it?"

"Someone's here."

She slid off her seat without so much as a word to the mortals, and reached for her sword as she pushed through the crowd. As she drew closer, she could see that the Immortal in question was no one she recognized. And his signature was weak. A young one, then. Perhaps too young to know better than to come to a Hellmouth.

She followed the pull until she came close to the most unlikely Immortal she'd seen in some time. Physically, he couldn't be more than fourteen. He didn't even look old enough to be in the club. The curly reddish hair didn't help matters; he looked like a male Shirley Temple. He turned, and looked her in the eye.

"You look a bit lost," she told him, and he glared at her.

"If you're here, freak, I'm not lost," he spit out at her. So, he was here for her. Damn. Now she would have to kill him.

"I'll give you one chance to walk away, child. Live to fight another day."

His answer was to spit in her face, which she calmly wiped clean. She turned her back on him, and walked out into the street. He followed, as she knew he would.

The attempted attack from behind was not at all unexpected. He was a boy, and barely that. The only way he could win against older Immortals would be a sneak attack. Cariss blocked the blow effortlessly and spun around, putting him on the defensive. It was clear that he was not a swordsman; she had him disarmed in under a minute. A sweep to the leg had him on the ground.

"How did you do that? How do you know how to fight?"

"You don't even know who you were hunting, do you? Who sent you?"

Cariss looked down at the kid, who looked to be on the verge of tears. Who sent this child after her? He had to have a mentor, it was the only way he would still be alive. If he was completely untrained, he would have run when he saw her, not challenged her. Someone was responsible for this mess, and Cariss would make them pay for sending a child in their place.

"Who sent you, child?" she asked less harshly. She didn't really want to kill this boy, who was acting on the orders of another. This kid was set up to fail.

"Angus McCormick. He said—he said go to Sunnydale, there's a woman, not like us. He said you were dangerous to our kind."

The boy was breathing heavily with the effort not to cry. Cariss lowered her sword. She knew of Angus McCormick. None of what she'd heard was positive. It didn't surprise her, with his reputation of getting people killed that he would try such a thing. The man was only two hundred years old, and he preyed on younger Immortals.

"Where is McCormick now, boy?"

"Seattle. I'm supposed to meet him there once I've killed you."

"Well, I don't think I'm going to let you kill me today, boy. What's your name?"

"Kyle. Kyle Haeger."

"Well, Kyle Haeger. I'll let you in on a secret. McCormick sent you here to die."

"He wouldn't do that! I don't believe you!"

Cariss sighed. He was loyal. That quality certainly had its uses, certainly, but to a man like McCormick? It was tragic, really.

"Kyle, how long have you been Immortal?"

"I'm thirty-five. I was turned when I was fourteen. You do the math."

Wonderful. He not only had the physical body of a fourteen year old, but the attitude as well. Why was she even bothering with this? She had more important things to worry about.

Tempted as she was to just take the boys head and be done with it, she just couldn't do it. He reminded her of Ewan, when she first knew him. If he had a teacher, someone who could undo whatever McCormick had taught him, he might just have a fighting chance at lasting a century.

"Look, Kyle, you're really starting to annoy me, so I'm going to explain this to you just once. I've killed men who lived more centuries than you have any hope of achieving. McCormick would have known that when he sent you after me. He's not expecting you to live to meet him in Seattle."

Kyle's face paled even more as he finally began to understand the position he'd been placed in. His mentor had sent him out to be killed. He thought he might throw up.

"Now. You challenged me, and you lost. I should take your head for that. I'm still considering that option. Or—"

"Or?" She might not kill him?

"Or I can send you out of the country. With a proper teacher you could learn to fight, and learn how to live as one of us. I'd wager you didn't even finish high school."

"Yeah, well, teachers tend to notice that you don't age. And McCormick said I had more important things to learn."

"If I let you go, and you come after me again, I WILL kill you. Do you understand?"

He nodded his head viciously. Cariss sheathed her sword and let the boy stand up. She took his sword from him before pulling out her cell phone and dialing a number. Kyle strained to listen as she spoke to someone he couldn't hear.

"Henry, love, are you still in Vancouver?—Good, I need you to do a little favor for me. Angus McCormick is in Seattle, and he just tried to have me killed."

Kyle couldn't hear what was being said on the other end, despite his best efforts.

"He sent a boy, only twenty one years—I'm certain he expected the boy to die. What? No, he's still alive—I thought McLeod maybe. I hear he's at loose ends right now—alright, just let me know when it's done."

Hanging up, she gave her attention back to Kyle. The boy was unbelievably thin. Didn't McCormick feed him? And she had to do something with him until she tacked down Duncan.

"Come with me, kid."


	7. Chapter 7

**A/N: So I am an evil person. Feel free to throw darts at me, etc, for taking so long to update. Seriously, I just didn't realize it had been almost a year since updating. Too many things floating around in my head. Hopefully this longer chapter will make up in some small way for the wait. Reviews are most appreciated. And please consider this my final disclaimer for the rest of the chapters: If you recognize it from TV, I don't own it. Period. Exclamation Point. **

"_Ewan?"_

_The cottage was empty. She'd come back from tending the sheep to find Ewan nowhere in the area. He must be hunting. They were getting low on meat. Or he'd gone into the village to trade the pelts he'd collected over the winter for the flour they'd just begun to run out of. The latest snow was unexpected, so late in the season, and they'd been housebound an extra two weeks; the risk of living apart from the rest of the village. _

_She didn't begin to worry until the hours passed and the sun started to sink under the horizon. If Ewan had gone to the village, he should have returned by now. It was less than an half an hour's walking, after all. If he'd been hunting, he would have come back long before it grew dark._

_She couldn't shake the feeling that something was wrong. They lived in peace here, away from the villagers who would look too closely into their affairs if given the chance. This part of Scotland was fairly remote; few strangers passed this way on purpose. Still, there was always the chance that another Immortal had found their way here, as she did. For all his skill with weapons, if Ewan came across an Immortal, he would not be the victor. She tried to tell herself that he knew what to do. She'd explained what she was, what he could become, to him, numerous times. He was as prepared as she could make him while he was still mortal. _

_Those thoughts were not comforting. She had just resolved to go out and find him when she heard the sound of horses, and a number of them, approaching. She grabbed her sword, wanting it handy. There could be no good news from so many people coming to her home._

"_Fiona Campbell! Ye are charged with witchcraft, and will be brought before the priest!"_

_She wrapped the tartan loosely around her torso, concealing the sword hidden in its folds. She opened the door to see that the head men of the village, and a few of their wives, had assembled a small mob, complete with torches. She could see through the glass Ewan had only recently installed in the windows that the cottage was surrounded._

"_Who calls me witch?" she demanded. There wasn't a person in the mob that didn't owe her a life, and they dared come and accuse her of witchcraft? She stared at each one, refusing to cower, daring them to make their accusations._

"_You're accused on the testimony of your co-conspirator," answered a man she'd never seen before, as the crowd parted to make way for him._

"_And who is my supposed co-conspirator?" _

_She didn't like the look of this man, who stared at her, superiority written in every line of his face. Worse than that, he looked at her as if he knew what she was. She could see in his eyes that this charge of witchcraft was simply a convenience; he didn't believe the charge. If he did, he wouldn't approach her so confidently._

"_Yer husband, Ewan Campbell."_

_Ewan? _

"_Liar."_

"_Ewan Campbell confessed his crimes and was executed this afternoon. Now yer time has come, woman."_

_Ewan was executed? She had to find him. Oh God, if he'd already been buried….she had to find him now. He would be buried alive—_

"_What have ye done with his body?"_

"_He was beheaded, and his body buried outside the kirk grounds, which is kinder than ye'll receive, ye whore of the devil!" Agnes McFadyen yelled from the back of the crowd, "Ye'll burn, for bein' the witch that ye are! Ye'll roast in hell, wi' no chance o' e'er escapin'! Ye deserve to burn for bewitchin' Ewan!"_

_Ewan was beheaded? They'd truly killed him then? The man who'd approached her stepped back at the look in her eyes, which was when she saw the tattoo on his wrist. A Watcher. Those damned mortals who thought they had some right to track her kind as if they were specimens to be studied. He'd been behind Ewan's beheading, she was sure of it. He knew that was the only way to truly kill him. Otherwise the village would have just hanged him._

_She knew the feeling of intense hatred and pure rage as she stepped out of her home, sword drawn. These fools had executed her husband; she would wipe their village from the face of the earth. She would prove herself the witch they accused. She would show no mercy._

Cariss woke with a start, to find tears on her cheeks. She hadn't dreamed of that day in years. Strange that she would start dreaming of it now, in this place. There was nothing to remind her of that moment. And she could still cry over it. Perhaps she wasn't as dead inside as she sometimes worried. Eager to rid herself of the remnants of that dream, she decided a long, hot shower was in order. Once she had that taken care of, she could get back to her research.

B-B-B-B-B-B-B

Cariss was starting to get angry. Two weeks of searching and she was no closer to finding whatever it was she was looking for than when she arrived. Will had been most helpful in keeping the Slayer busy, so that she could look around in peace, but she was coming up empty, and it was pissing her off. She couldn't eliminate a threat if she didn't know what it was.

Rather than throw her laptop against the wall, she decided to unleash some of her frustration on the resident vampire population. She'd followed Will, and followed the Slayer, for the last two weeks, with no success. Maybe it was time to try interrogating the vampires. If vampires were disappearing, they were bound to have some idea of what was happening, or at least point her in a useful direction. Plus, she was thirsty. She wasn't used to going so long between feedings.

Her decision made, she grabbed her duster, slipped her sword inside, and headed out. She should be able to find some vampires easily enough. Really, she just had to wait for them to spot her. As soon as she was recognized for what she was, they would come to her.

Her mood did not improve when she stopped at both the Espresso Pump and The Bronze without a trace of a vampire. It figured that they couldn't just make this easier on all of them and be where she needed them to be. Of course they would be gone the one time she really needed to find them. This made it harder, now she would actually have to go hunting for them.

She had more luck in the graveyard. The first cemetery she came to, there was an entire coven waiting for a newborn to claw its way out of the ground. These new vampires were in sore need of some lessons in class. She knew from experience how horrific it was to have to claw her way out of a grave. For a newborn vampire, it could be traumatic. Maybe the watchers should make a study on the negative effects on a vampire of rising in such a traumatic way, since they liked to meddle so much.

She didn't bother to hide her presence, and as she expected, several of them came directly at her. She didn't kill them, choosing instead to run them through with her sword, but avoid the heart. She couldn't very well expect them to believe she wasn't interested in fighting if she killed any of them.

"Who's your leader?" She asked the remaining coven members, who were now watching her warily. They looked to each other before the one in front looked back at her, shaking her head. She bit back a sigh.

"Look, I'm not interested in fighting with you. I just want to talk to your leader."

"And why should we believe you? A lot of strange things have been going on, why should we trust you?"

The voice came from the back of the group, so Cariss couldn't see who was speaking. She was fairly certain that it was their leader, though.

"Because if I wanted to do anything other than talk, your minions here would be dead already."

"She has a point, master."—the female at the front of the group. Maybe she wasn't quite as stupid as she looked. The group parted and a man who looked to be nearly fifty years old stepped out. Cariss took a quick look at the rest of the group, and saw that they were all under twenty years old. Wonderful. She would bet money this man had been turned during his midlife crisis, or during an overwhelming desire to reproduce. Probably both. What most failed to realize was that few people changed appreciably during a turning. Whatever their emotional or mental state when living, it transferred to the demon.

"What did you want to say to me, half-breed?"

This one had a few years on him, she could tell. He was likely even older than Liam. Still, in her lifetime, that was the blink of an eye. If he was going for intimidation, he was failing.

"Do you have a name, or should I just call you blood sucker?"

"Robert."

"Alright, Robert. What's been going on here? Why are vampires disappearing?"

He nodded in the general direction of away from his coven, and she followed him. She wasn't too worried about being attacked from behind; if they tried anything, she would just have a meal sooner than she'd planned. They walked out of sight of the coven, and the vampire took a seat on a headstone.

"So why are vampires disappearing?"

"I assumed it was you. Your reputation precedes you, you know."

"I've only been here two weeks. What's been going on?"

"No one knows for sure. We all thought it was you, once you were sighted."

"So no one knows who's behind the disappearances?"

"No. The Slayer was suspect, for awhile. She did manage to destroy a coven that had gathered for a rising, just as you were coming in, but it's not her. There are rumors, of course."

"What rumors?"

There were always rumors. The trouble was sorting out the truth. Cariss wondered just how helpful this man would be. He was the least likely candidate for a vampire she'd seen in a long time. He was unattractive: he'd lost most of his hair by the time he was turned, and judging from his mouth, he'd been heavily into chewing tobacco or dip. The large midsection didn't help, either. He didn't seem terribly intelligent, either. She couldn't see him being a part of the inner circles of the Hellmouth. She was honestly surprised that he'd passed the century mark.

"There was a secret government group here, experimenting on demons, not all that long ago. Many think that they're back, continuing what they started."

"Conspiracy theories? Really? That's what you're giving me?"

"They're not theories, half breed. It was real. I lost a few of my own fledglings to them. These government scientists, they put microchips into their heads. They couldn't feed, couldn't even hurt a human."

"And you know this how?"

"Some finally escaped. The Slayer and her friends assaulted the building, and the demons they'd captured got loose. They wiped out the entire group, left no survivors."

"And you think that it's happening again?"

He shrugged.

"It makes as much sense as anything else."

Sadly, it did make sense. It was as likely a theory as any she'd come up with so far. They were interrupted by the sounds of fighting, and Robert looked back to see his coven under attack.

"You brought the Slayer!"

"Of course I didn't, are you an idiot?"

The vampire snarled at her, but left, heading for his coven where sure enough, the Slayer and her friends were attacking. Cariss followed at a more sedate pace. She was curious to see the Slayer in action, but she had no interest in killing the girl, unless she was attacked first. This coven was certainly not her fight.

That changed when she saw not only Will's redhead, but Will himself fighting. Will was helping the Slayer? It was one thing to know the humans that the Slayer associated with, but to work with them? To turn against his own kind? He had a lot of explaining to do. He was three deep in vampires, keeping close to the girl—Willow?—and a little too preoccupied to see that another was coming directly for them. Cariss unsheathed her sword with little reluctance and dove into the fight.

It was easy, to say the least, to dispatch the vampires lunging for her. Robert had apparently not chosen his childer for their intelligence: they failed to understand that with her blade a good 40 inches long, she could run them through before they could actually get near her. She wouldn't bemoan the fact that their stupidity worked to her advantage, but she was rather sorry she hadn't gotten to at least drain a few of them first.

"Nice of you to drop in, luv!" Will called as he staked the one closest to him.

"Your little friends interrupted my dinner, you jackass!"

A yelp behind them alerted them to the fact that the fighting was still going on behind them, and Willow was on the losing end of a struggle with the newborn that'd risen during the confusion.

"Red!"

"Willow!"

None of them were close enough to get to the girl before the newborn killed her. Cariss pulled out her knife and sent it flying through the air. It imbedded itself in the newborn's chest, and he exploded into dust, sending the girl falling to the ground. Will was the first to reach her, after finally throwing the vamp that'd jumped onto his back into a conveniently located statue of Cupid, complete with sharp pointy arrow. He skidded to a stop beside the girl and pulled her into his lap.

"You alright there, luv?"

Cariss quickly took stock of the situation before going to retrieve her knife. The Slayer and young man with her were holding their own, and surprisingly, so were Anyanka and her human fiancé. She really didn't need to interfere anymore, but she saw one that was getting away, and went after her. It was the girl she'd thought might have a modicum of intelligence. She caught the girl by the back of her neck, and sank her teeth in. She was starting to feel better, finally getting blood into her system.

The stake was painful as it went into her body, and the girl she'd been feeding on exploded into dust. A blonde woman was standing over her, and she caught sight of Anyanka yelling something as the world started to fade. She just managed to wrench the stake out of her chest before she died.

"Damn it. Do you have any idea how much that hurts? I loved this shirt, too." were the first words out of her mouth the moment she came around. The Slayer was staring at her incredulously, as were Willow and the males. Cariss pushed herself to a sitting position, and then slowly stood, brushing herself off as she did so. Her sword was lying right beside her, and she picked it up and slid it back into its hiding place.

"You didn't die" was the brilliant observation of the blonde.

"How very astute, Slayer."

"You're supposed to be dust, I staked you."

"And yet here I stand."

It appeared that the Slayer was having trouble processing what she was seeing. She stood with her mouth open, gaping like a fish. That was fine with Cariss; she really didn't feel like dealing with the woman any more tonight. Plus, she still needed to feed. She'd gotten very little from that vamp before Buffy—oh dear lord, how was she supposed to take the Slayer seriously with a name like Buffy—staked her. The need was even greater now that she'd "died". She walked off, but it didn't take long for the blonde to start following her, or for the entire group to start following the Slayer.

"Okay, who are you and what are you doing here?"

"Leaving. I should think that was obvious."

The woman sprinted until she was ahead of Cariss and stepped in her path. Cariss resisted the urge to bodily remove the woman, instead stepping around her and continuing on her way.

"You're not going anywhere until you tell me what's going on. I want answers, now."

"And I want to climb to the top of Mt. Kilimanjaro. It seems we're both destined for disappointment."

The Slayer sprinted ahead and stopped in front of her again, this time grabbing her arm. Cariss barely heard Will telling her not to do anything rash, or Anya telling Buffy to back off right now if she valued her life. The Slayer had crossed a line. If she wanted a fight, she would get one.

"You'd better start telling me what I want to know, or I'll stake you again. We'll see just how many times you can come back from that before you're dust."

Cariss laid her hand on the Slayers and spun into the woman, rotating her torso to throw the blonde over her shoulder and onto the ground. It really was a shame the girl couldn't leave well enough alone. The human flipped herself back up and aimed a kick at Cariss' torso, which she quickly dodged. She answered with a strike of her own.

"Cariss, stop! Buffy!"

They both ignored Will calling for them to stop. Cariss ducked as Buffy spun and kicked again, using her advantage to kick the Slayer's standing leg out from under her. This might be one of the older Slayer's she'd dealt with, but she was not the best trained.

"What the hell are you?" Buffy asked as she flipped herself up and launched another attack. A moment's distraction allowed her to land a kick that sent Cariss flying into a tombstone.

"Wouldn't you like to know?"

Kick, punch, and kick again. The thud of contact with the Slayers chest was satisfying.

"I'm serious. Don't make me do the chick fight thing."

"I wish you'd try it. Just give me an excuse to kill you. Please."

Buffy flew at her again, and this time managed to get a fistful of hair. She pulled, and Cariss cursed. Now she was starting to get angry. The Slayer had interrupted her meal, and attacked her. The gloves were coming off. Cariss reached up and squeezed the Slayer's wrist until she heard bones break, and her hair was released. She grabbed the woman again and slung her into a tombstone.

She stalked towards the blonde, reaching for her sword, when she was tackled from behind. This body was heavier. Of course, it was probably the male who'd stayed so close to the Slayer. She placed a well aimed kick to his groin area, and had the pleasure of hearing him groan in pain, before bucking him off of her and rolling away. She was up on her feet instantly, sword drawn. She would take care of him, and then deal with the Slayer.

"Cariss, no!"

The arms that encased her and prevented her from dealing a killing blow were as unyielding as steel. William. Cariss attempted to shrug him off, but he wouldn't let go.

"You can't kill her," he growled in her ear.

"Sure I can."

He squeezed her tighter in warning, and she finally relented, her sword coming down to relax at her side. Neither of them noticed while they argued quietly that the Slayer had managed to get to her feet, and she launched herself at Cariss again, a stake in hand. This one missed the heart, but landed in her stomach. She staggered back as Will released her, and as she fell to the ground she saw him punch the Slayer, and then grab his head and howl in pain. She pulled the stake out and tossed it aside. The wound wasn't fatal, it was healing already. She grabbed her sword as she swept the Slayers legs out from under her again, and rested the edge of the blade threateningly against the blonde's throat as she pushed herself to one knee.

"You just couldn't leave well enough alone, could you? I saved your young friend's life, and you attack me. I'd rather you just say 'Thank You', and walk away quietly."

Cariss pushed herself to her feet, keeping the time of the sword against pulse in the Slayer's throat, until she swung it out, pointing it at Will.

"And someone had better explain what the hell is going on here."

B-B-B-B-B

No one noticed the man in the bushes, who observed the entire scene with a certain reverence. He'd come to find more vampires for testing, but instead he found something much more important. This was news that couldn't wait.

As soon as he could slip away without being seen by the Slayer or her companions, he made his way back to the lab. There was no time for delay. This changed things. Marshall looked up at him as he ran into the room, and skidded to a stop.

"Where are the other candidates?"

"She's here, Marshall."

"Are you certain?"

"Absolutely. She's come."


	8. Chapter 8

**A/N: I can't believe I'm actually updating this one so soon, but it popped into my head and wouldn't get out. And I wanted to get it up before I go on vacation next week, so here you go. Reviews make me very happy, and often help with keeping the dang plot gnomes in line **

Cariss found herself glaring at the Slayer over a cup of hot tea. The watcher was certainly not what she was expecting. A graying Brit with a love of tweed wasn't exactly inconspicuous in California. Still, the man made a decent cup of tea, and other than a brief moment of tripping over himself at her presence, he hadn't made too much of a nuisance of himself. She decided she rather liked him, even if he was acting a bit star struck. The Slayer, on the other hand…

"This really is remarkable. When one considers that vampires and immortals have been natural enemies since, well, forever. And here you sit. And you actually know Spike?"

It was almost cute. Almost. But Cariss couldn't forget the fact that Will had ended up in tremendous pain after attacking a human, and with what Robert said—and these people obviously knew and did nothing?

"I know him. And I want an explanation for what happened to him. Why would he have trouble attacking a human?"

"He has a chip in his head," Xander piped in helpfully, which earned him a glare from Anyanka, "and he can't hurt humans."

"Yes, I'd figured that part out myself. How long ago did this happen?"

Will's redhead was the only one of the group who looked the least bit upset as Cariss' voice took on a dangerous edge. Maybe the infatuation wasn't completely one-sided then. She allowed herself a brief moment to indulge in the possibility that maybe Will could finally get over Drusilla before turning her attention back to the subject at hand. The Watcher grew uneasy under her stare.

"It's been some time."

The vampire in question was currently staring at nothing in particular, resolutely refusing to meet anyone's gaze. It wasn't obvious to anyone else, but Cariss could tell from the tightening of his jaw that he was unhappy with the discussion. She blinked as the redhead—Willow—moved from her perch on the couch beside the Slayer to sit next to him. Maybe the girl wasn't as oblivious as the rest of them.

"And is there some compelling reason that none of you felt the need to try to fix this? Some reason that will convince me to prolong your lives?"

Giles paled at that, and Anyanka warily angled her body away from the threat. The Slayer had the audacity to look amused.

"Because a neutered Spike is a much safer Spike to keep around. That's all the reason I need. And I really don't see what business that is of yours, demon."

Cariss bared her fangs at that, a silent warning to the human.

"It's my business if I make it my business, Slayer. And since you seem to think that you have the right to treat William as if he's your pet dog, I make it my business."

"Let me clear something up for you," Buffy glared at her, ignoring Giles' warning not to provoke her, "you may think you're hot stuff wherever you came from, but I'm the Slayer. I kill demons like you, and I've been doing it for a long time. So I really don't care who you think you are, I have no problem staking you as many times as it takes for you to finally die. And I promise you, you will die eventually."

Cariss moved without warning, shooting up from her seat to grab the Slayer by the neck and push her across the room into the wall.

"I'm no demon, Slayer. That's your first mistake. There is nothing you can do that would kill me." The human clutched at her hand, trying to pry loose the fingers that were cutting off her oxygen. "And your arrogance is your second mistake. I've been the end of Slayers who all survived much longer than you. That for some reason William doesn't want you dead is the only reason you're still alive. Never test my good nature."

Cariss released her grip, allowing the Slayer to fall to the floor, gasping for air. Angered, Buffy pushed herself to her feet and launched herself at the woman's back. Cariss barely heard Anyanka's shouted warning as she spun around and calmly caught the leg that was kicking at her, twisting the ankle painfully until she heard a bone snap, and Buffy fell to the floor with a sharp cry.

"Buffy!"-Xander

"Why didn't you ever show me how to do that?"-Anyanka

"Was that really necessary?"-Giles

Willow stood as if she would help her friend, but Cariss noted that Will kept the girl well away from her. The man-had Anyanka called him Riley? Yes, that was it—Riley was immediately kneeling beside the fallen Slayer helping her to stand on her good foot. When that didn't work, he picked her up and carried her to the couch, which was now vacant.

"Ow ow ow," they could hear Buffy mutter as her broken ankle was jostled, as Riley tried to arrange her more comfortably on the couch. Giles disappeared for a minute, returning with what looked like an ambulance's first aid kit. It was certainly not something that could just be picked up in a pharmacy.

"Is it broken?" The Watcher asked, looking not to Buffy, but to Cariss. She nodded.

"It is. Oh, and I broke her wrist earlier, as well."

"Really, was this necessary?"

"She attacked me from behind, Watcher. And she tried to kill me when I saved her friend's life. I'd say it was more than warranted."

"She's some sort of demon, Giles. I staked her while she was draining another vampire! Whatever she is, she's not here to help us!"

Cariss directed her attention at William as she asked "can I kill her now?"

"Cariss. You need her."

"Like you could really kill me," the slayer scoffed. Cariss found herself itching to do to precisely that as she looked back at the girl.

"Easily. Just look at your broken ankle if you doubt it."

Buffy's eyes narrowed in anger, and Cariss tried, really, to not smirk. She failed.

"That was a lucky shot. I'll take you any day of the week."

"Good God, are you really that stupid? And here I thought Will was exaggerating."

The chorus of voices at that declaration was nearly deafening.

"Hey!"—Buffy

"I know, right? I couldn't believe it either when I first met her."- Anyanka

"Oh no, you're not dragging me further into this, luv."-Spike

"Ladies, let's not have any more injuries tonight, hmm?"—Giles

"Buffy, you really need to stop talking now. I don't think you want to end up dead."—Willow

Cariss actually spared a second look at Will's redhead. The girl sounded as if she knew something about her. She was certain William hadn't told her anything. How would the mortal have found anything? Cariss was careful to make sure that there were no clear references to her in the more public of the occult books.

The blonde simply glared at her, as if she could kill her by that look alone. The disapproving stare Giles directed at the Slayer was impressive in its power to make the young woman shrink back.

"If it's broken we're going to have to get you to a hospital so they can set it properly. "

"Not the hospital." Buffy protested, pushing herself up to a sitting position.

"We need X-rays. If I tried to set it without having a clear picture of the break, it would heal improperly. We can afford to have that happen."

"I'll take her."

Those were the first words she'd heard out of Riley's mouth the entire night. She'd begun to wonder if he could speak, or if he was just empty-headed muscle.

"Fine, fine. Then we can have a discussion with our—our guest, while you're gone."

"She's some sort of demon, Giles! You can't trust a word she says!" Buffy practically screamed at them as Riley lifted her and carried her out of the house. Giles watched them go, shaking his head as they left.

"I rather wish you hadn't done that. It will be much harder to convince her to work with you now."

"I don't need her to work with me, Watcher. I just need her to stay out of my way. If she can't do that…well, she's hardly the first Slayer I've had to kill."

"Why, precisely, are you here?"

"You don't know?"

How was it possible that a Watcher didn't know what was going on in his own Hellmouth? Even more important: why hadn't the Council informed him? Something important enough to get her on a plane and across oceans was something that should definitely be shared with the locals.

"The Council really hasn't told you?"

"I-I'm afraid I don't really work with the Council any longer. We came to a parting of the ways after Buffy turned 18. What is it they haven't told me?"

Cariss looked at the remaining group. This wasn't anything to be shared with them, not at the moment. She didn't want to get them involved; they would only end up dying.

"Whatever you have to say concerns us too, if something Hellmouthy's going on." Xander stated when he saw the look on her face. He wasn't about to let some strange woman send him home like a child when something big was happening in his town, even if she did manage to kick Buffy's ass and make it look easy.

"You might as well tell us. We'll just find out on our own anyway."

It was the first statement the redhead had directed at her the entire night. Cariss looked at the girl, and quickly looked away, as the red hair started to remind her of blood, something she was still in need of. Damn that Slayer for staking her before she had a chance to feed. She swallowed against the feel of her fangs elongating again, and focused on the question at hand.

"I don't know that it's anything specifically to do with the Hellmouth. A large number of vampires are disappearing, without any apparent cause. Too many to just be your little group of vigilantes," she added when she saw that Xander had opened his mouth to speak. "The Council doesn't seem to have any idea what's behind it, but they're concerned enough that both branches are working together. That's why I'm here."

"Did you just say that both branches are working together?" Giles asked in disbelief. Something that serious was happening in his town, and the Council didn't even bother to warn him? He was going to have a serious discussion with Harrison, very soon.

"Yes, I did."

The need for blood was getting increasingly worse. She really needed to get out, before she attacked William in front of all these people.

"I have to—I'll come see you tomorrow, shall I? I have to take care of—"

The Watcher was starting to look concerned, but once again it was Xander who interrupted her.

"No way. You can't just leave after dropping a bombshell like that. And what do you mean, 'both branches? What other branch is there?"

"Not now, Xapper," Spike growled at him as he stood up, and stalked across the room.

He squatted down in front of Cariss, so that they were eye level.

"Cariss?"

"No, Will. Not from you."

"I don't see where you have much choice."

"Then I'll hunt."

She tried to stand, but he grabbed her wrist and pulled her back onto the couch, and took a seat beside her. She was really in no condition to go hunting, not after the injuries Buffy had given her. He was surprised that the weakness hadn't hit before now, and that she was able to take the Slayer so easily in her current condition.

"Just do what you're told for once, woman."

He pulled back his sleeve, exposing his wrist, which he held out to her. She pushed it away.

"No! Not like this."

It was on the tip of the vampires tongue to tell her that they'd done far worse together, until he saw just how avidly the humans were watching. She never did like to feed in public.

"Alright, all of you clear out for a few minutes."

Giles started to protest, but the look on the vampire's face quelled that urge. He was quick to herd the others out of the room, despite Xander complaining. Spike waited until he heard the front door close to bite into his own wrist, and stick it under her nose so that the scent of blood would be almost overpowering.

"It's alright, luv, we're alone now. You can feed. They're gone."

Cariss took the offered wrist and sank her teeth into it. She was careful, not taking nearly as much as she actually needed, so that she didn't risk draining him dry. She let him go after only twenty seconds.

"Keep going. You didn't get enough."

"Not from you. I'm not draining you dry, Will. And that's final."

He knew better than to argue with her when she had that look on her face, and instead went into the kitchen and cleaned up the mess. When he came back in, he was pulling his sleeves back over his wrist.

"How did you get like this, Will?"

It was simply offensive to see any vampire unable to go after their natural food source, because of human interference. Not that she had any love for vampires, but it was a simple matter of survival of the fittest. If a human couldn't stake a vampire, they deserved to be dinner. They might be demons, but they were the best source of population control for a planet that desperately needed it. Besides, humans died at each other's hands far more often than they did at demons.

"I'm sure you've heard the story, or you wouldn't know what happened."

"I'd still rather hear you tell it."

"I was ambushed by a bunch of government boys, like the Slayer's newest toy. I woke up, and this damn chip was in my head."

"And why hasn't your redhead found a way to remove it? She's supposed to be some sort of genius, isn't she?"

She was fairly certain she'd heard that correctly, from Anyanka, no less, who thought every mortal was an idiot.

"She may be a genius, but she's still human, luv. She'd be scared to death of me if I had my fangs. This chip is the only reason I get as close to her as I do. Besides, I had a doctor try to remove it once, and they couldn't."

That was simply unacceptable. Cariss couldn't just sit by and watch him exist like this. There had to be a way to get that chip out, and she was determined to find it.

"Well, luckily for you, you know a very talented brain surgeon. We're going to find a way to get it out, Will. I'm not leaving you like this."

The first thing she would have to do was get x-rays. That shouldn't be too hard; all they'd have to do would be to sneak into a hospital. Nothing they hadn't done before, even if it had been almost a hundred years. Whatever it was she was supposed to find, that she'd so far been unsuccessful at, could wait another night.

Spike didn't want to get his hopes up. He'd had one doctor already fail. Granted, the man had been there under duress, which probably hadn't helped him, but still. He didn't know if he would be able to take it if Cariss couldn't take it out.

"Come on, you. Let's go get some x-rays."

B-B-B-B-B

"This is getting tiresome," Marshall complained as they disposed of yet another vampire corpse. "This could carry on for months before we ever found the Aurelius bloodline, and we're running out of time."

"I agree, Marshall. This is taking entirely too long. I have a better idea."

The two men pushed the exsanguinated vampire into the furnace, and closed the door. A push of the button later, and the unfortunate demon was gone in a column of flame.

"And what might that be, Roland?"

Roland guided the other man farther down the hall, so that they wouldn't be overheard by their companion.

"I think we should start following Her."

Marshall looked at his associate in disbelief.

"You want to follow Her? Are you suicidal? Do you have any idea how man Watcher's she's killed?"

"She won't even know we're there, Marshall. And She undoubtedly knows who the Aurelius vampire is. Following Her is the surest and quickest way to find them."

"It is also the surest and quickest way to get ourselves killed. No. If you want to do that, you do it alone. I'll have no part in that."

Roland looked up at the taller man. He couldn't believe he needed to convince the other man. This was a war they were fighting! They had to use any means necessary, and having Her in the area—what other sign could Marshall want that they were on the right course. She would lead them right to the descendant of Aurelius! This same man, the one who'd convinced him that they must do everything they can to advance their cause; the one who'd brought him here, to this place, unwilling to track a single woman.

"Then I'll do it myself. I'll let you know once I find the vampire. We'll have to move quickly once I do."

It was a risk; he knew that. If She discovered he was tracking her, he was as good as dead. But it was a risk he was willing to take, to find the vampire they needed. Once he did so, they would have to take the vampire without Her finding them. If She found them too soon, they would fail. And then they would have to take Her as well. She was the most necessary part of the prophecy. It all depended on their ability to take Her, a task that would be much easier since She'd practically come to them. Their cause was indeed blessed. And soon the others would see it, and realize their error in casting them out.

B-B-B-B-B

"Hey, Giles, I think I found something here."

It being a Saturday, Willow had spent almost the entire day at the Watcher's house, helping his research, and listening to Buffy's complaints. The Slayer's wrist and ankle had indeed needed to be re-set, and now she was off her feet for a day as her supernatural healing knit bone together. Fortunately, Riley was also there to wait on her hand and foot so that Willow and Giles could manage to get some actual work done.

"What is it?"

Seven hours and counting of research had turned up nothing. There was no demon that specialized in killing vampires, no plague that was vampire specific, nothing to explain why a large number of vampires simply disappeared. Giles was starting to grow as frustrated as his Slayer.

"I'm not sure, exactly. But I figured, what's-her-name was awfully concerned about Spike, you know, in particular, than with all the missing vampires in general. So that got me thinking that maybe whoever or whatever is doing this, maybe they're looking for a specific vampire? And I found this."

She pointed to a page in the most recent book she'd pulled up.

"There's a prophecy that requires a member of Clan Aurelius. And Spike's from that clan. What if this is all just a way to find—"

"What? You really think that someone's killing all these vampires just to get their hands on Spike? C'mon, Wills, who would bother?" The slayer called from the living room, "Although, if they are, they're really doing me a favor. Taking out a bunch of vamps, and Spike? I call that a win."

Willow stopped, and stared at the blonde. How could she say something like that? Spike had done nothing but help them, because he couldn't go out and feed himself, and she-?

"So what, Buffy? You're happy enough to use Spike to do your dirty work, but he's not good enough to worry about saving?"

Buffy's smile slipped off her face as she saw just how angry her friend was.

"Willow, he's evil. There's nothing good about him. He's a demon!"

"A demon that helps you kills other vampires! A demon that saved my life, and your sisters! You know what, that woman was right. We've been treating him like he's our pet dog: great to have around when you need them to do something, but as soon as you're finished you just shoo them away, because you don't want them all over you. Well I'm sick of it!"

"Willow—"Giles tried to intervene, and get the brilliant girl's attention back on the task at hand.

"No, Giles! I'm sick of it! I don't care what he's done! I mean, I know he's a demon, and that he's evil and soulless! But right now, he's practically defenseless, and he's done almost everything we've asked of him, and he doesn't deserve to be treated that way!"

Filled with righteous indignation, the red head shot from her seat and stalked to the door.

"And until you can decide to appreciate the people who help you at risk of life and limb, you can forget about Research Girl!"

With that, she slammed the door on her exit. Slayer and Watcher just sat, too stunned to go after her.

"Wow," Riley was the one to break the uncomfortable silence that had settled in the wake of the girl's departure, "I didn't think Willow had that in her."

"Yes, well, maybe we just need to let her cool off."

Giles returned his attention to the passage his young pseudo-protégé had pointed out. It was broad daylight, so he didn't worry about Willow getting home safely. And in her present mood, he had no wish to test her anger. Her spells weren't the most reliable when she was emotional, and she might try to turn him into something he'd rather not think about.

His eyes widened as he read the passage.

"Good God, I think she might be right."

"Seriously?"

He ignored Buffy as he reached for the phone. He needed to contact the Council, and if they didn't answer him, well, he'd track down Cariss. He remembered this prophecy, and after having one part of it sitting in his living room….his instinct told him that this was exactly what they were looking for.


	9. Chapter 9

Cariss was almost ready to breathe a sigh of relief when she saw the redhead approach. She'd staked out this dorm room for the better part of two days, and there had been no sign of the mortal. She would need the girl's help to take the chip out of Will's head, and she was tired of waiting. Not to mention the fact that she was starting to feel that she was being watched. Really, just how much was she supposed to handle at once?

It was slightly disappointing to see that Willow paid very little attention to possible threats as she walked to the door. Even if it was still daylight, she should know that there was any number of predators around, plenty of them of the human variety. The girl walked past without ever seeing her. She made a mental note to berate Will for the girl's apparent lack of appreciation for danger later. There was something far more important to deal with first.

She waited until the door was open to step out of her hiding place and grab Willow, forcibly shoving her inside and quickly locking the door behind her. Good, she was alone. The redhead almost managed to get out a scream before Cariss had her mouth covered.

"Take it easy, Willow, I'm not here to hurt you."

The girl's eyes were wide and terrified when Cariss turned her around. It was almost amusing to see that the mortal actually visibly relaxed, even if she did still look scared, when she saw who it was in her room.

"I'm going to remove my hand now, but you have to not scream. I don't want to hurt you, but if you scream I'll have to. Do you understand?"

It was always better to get that warning out of the way. She didn't want any misunderstanding here. She wanted the girl's willing cooperation, but either way, she was going to take that chip out of Will's head, and this girl was going to help her.

"What do you want?"

"I'm going to take that chip out of William's head. I want you to help me."

Willow's head started to shake automatically. Take the chip out of Spike's head? The others would never forgive her if she helped them do something like that. Spike wasn't Angel. He didn't have a soul to keep him from hurting humans; if he was de-chipped, he'd be right back out on the streets killing people. He'd probably go after Buffy first thing.

"One can only hope."

It wasn't until she heard the other woman's comment that she realized she'd said anything out loud.

"Uh uh. I can't do that."

The woman stared at her, and she fell silent. She'd heard of Cariss, which was what Spike had called the woman who'd introduced herself as Siobhan McLeod. Nothing she'd read had been positive, and she really didn't want to end up dead.

"Willow. May I call you Willow? It really is a lovely name."

Willow only nodded dumbly as Cariss spoke to her.

"Willow. Do you really think it right to keep William defenseless, when the Slayer is just looking for an excuse to kill him? I know you like him. Do you really think that this is how he's supposed to be?"

"Of course not."

"Then help me fix it."

She hesitated. Of course Spike shouldn't be stuck with a chip in his head that made him unable to attack humans. It cut off his main food source. If he couldn't hurt a person, he would starve if he couldn't get blood from a blood bank. He'd do it just on principle, because he refused to get animal blood from the butcher. She'd suggested it more than once, and his response was that being dead was better than trying to live on that stuff.

But if she helped de-chip him…

"He'll leave," was her whispered response, so soft that Cariss almost didn't catch it. The only reason he stayed around was because he needed blood and they supplied it, for a price. If he was a free vamp, he'd go. She knew he didn't think of her that way, but he was her friend, probably the only one she had that wasn't her friend because of what she could do for him. Xander was her friend because she'd helped him with school, ever since kindergarten, and because he was just as lonely as she was. Anya was her friend because she was Xander's friend and Buffy—before, she wouldn't have said that Buffy had any ulterior motive for being her friend, but lately, she'd had to wonder about that. If she wasn't Research Girl, always coming up with ways to help Buffy fight and kill demons and save the world, would the Slayer really choose to spend any time with her? She wasn't sure anymore.

Cariss didn't respond to that comment. She could see that the mortal was internally debating her next course of action. For her part, Cariss was pretty sure that Will wouldn't leave once he was back to normal, unless he took Willow with him. The girl should honestly be more worried that he would turn her. Will was clearly infatuated with her, and he had the ability to make forever actually mean forever.

"Help me make this right, Willow. For William."

And that might have been underhanded, but she didn't care. Whatever it took to get the girl to help, she would do.

"Alright."

She didn't care if Buffy decided never to speak to her again. She wouldn't even care if Giles decided to get mad at her. Spike was her friend, and if she could help him, she would. Besides, she sort of owed him that, as many times as he'd saved her life.

"Did Giles ever find you?" she asked as Cariss opened the door and stepped outside, waiting for her.

"The Watcher? I haven't heard from him. Why?"

"We found a prophecy about the Aurelius bloodline, and, well, I actually don't know much after that because Buffy pissed me off and I kind of walked out on them."

"Do you know what prophecy?"

Willow missed the look on the other woman's face as she turned to make sure the door was shut and locked.

"I'm not too sure. It wasn't one I'd ever read before, but it was something about ancient immortal vampires and the Aurelius bloodline. I don't remember the exact wording."

Cariss stopped in her tracks, and the mortal nearly walked into her. There was no way that they should have had that prophecy. It shouldn't be possible. She'd tracked down every copy of that damned prophecy; spent centuries doing so.

"Are you absolutely certain about that?"

"Yeah."

New priorities then. Fix Will, and then find out how the hell anyone had gotten a hold of that prophecy. Heads would literally roll at Wolfram and Hart when she found out what happened. She didn't care if it gave her an excuse to call Lindsey, and possibly even have him join her for a night or two. Their responsibility had been to ensure that book never fell into anyone's hands, "good" or "evil", and they'd failed.

"Alright, I'll deal with that later. Let's get Will de-chipped first. We'll need to pick up a few things, which I'll need your help with, but I should be able to take that chip out as soon as tomorrow. You'll come by the hotel around four o'clock?"

B-B-B-B-B_-B-B-B-B

"What are you doing here?"

"She's here at my invitation, Will. Just like you are."

"Cariss—"

It was funny; he looked almost afraid. She wasn't sure though, if he was afraid for himself or the redhead.

"Relax, Will. Your friend is going to help me remove that chip from your head."

Spike shook his head, disbelief evident. Why would Willow agree to help de-chip him? She had to know that the moment she did, he would make sure her heart stopped beating. She was innocent, but was she naïve enough to believe that his spending so much time around the Scooby gang had mellowed him, or changed his mind? She'd have to be out of her mind to actually think that. And if she had some special ability to just "magic" the damn thing away, why hadn't she done it already?

"Why?"

"Because I need an assistant and she's smarter than the rest of those idiots you spend your time with."

"Not you. Why, Red? Why now?"

Willow looked at the floor, her voice only barely audible to humans. Fortunately, or perhaps unfortunately for her, her companions weren't human, and had no hearing difficulties.

"Because she said she could do it. And it's not right, the way everybody else treats you like a pet dog. It's not right to use somebody for what they can do for you and then toss them away, especially when you claim to be their friend."

Cariss had the feeling that the end of that speech was much more personal for the girl, but chose not to delve into that topic. She liked the mortal, she was surprised to realize, but she had no interest in getting involved in the drama of late adolescents. She avoided teenagers and barely twenty-something's for a reason: life was much more than the unending melodrama they believed it to be.

"Any other questions, Will, or can we get on with this? I do have other things to do."

"Yeah, let's have done with it."

Cariss didn't wait for any further encouragement; instead, she slammed the unsuspecting vampire's head into the wall, and he fell to the floor unconscious. The next step, dragging said unconscious vampire across the room and hoisting him onto the kitchen table, took considerably more effort, but she managed it fairly quickly. Once that was accomplished, she disappeared into the bedroom, leaving Willow to stare at the now harmless looking Spike. When the woman returned a moment later carrying a black doctor's bag that looked like it was at least a hundred years out of date, the mortal was still staring at the vampire.

Cariss spared barely a look at William, only checking to make sure he was still passed out, as she rummaged in the bag and pulled out a syringe and a bottle of some sort of medicine. She filled the syringe and tapped on it to make sure it was free of air bubbles, before plunging it into the vampire's arm.

"What is that?"

"Just a little something to keep him unconscious while I cut his head open. He'll be fine in a couple of hours."

"How does that work, anyway?"

When Cariss spared a glance for Willow, she saw the curiosity on the girl's face.

"How does what work?"

"The drug thing. Or the eating thing, or the breathing thing? I mean, vampires can eat, drink, breathe, talk, move, have sex, everything that they did when they were still human, but they don't have a beating heart. How can they do any of that without their heart pumping the blood through their veins? I've always wondered how any of that was possible."

Ah. The voracious inquisitiveness of the academic. Everything needed an explanation, a reason. Cariss idly wondered whether Willow pondered the scientific explanations of every demon she came across. Was there anything the girl didn't want explained?

"I can't say I've thought about it much. My guess would be that the demon that now possesses the vampire controls the body. Or maybe they just wear them, like a suit or something."

"A Spike suit? Okay, that's just gross."

"Focus, Willow." Cariss ordered as she laid out a number of rather sinister looking medical implements on the table. Willow nodded, swallowing hard, and hoped she wouldn't pass out once the cut was made. She'd never been a big fan of blood.

She was surprised when Cariss handed her a surgical mask, but she put it on without comment. Then she saw something even more surprising: an x-ray of Spike's head was actually taped to a lamp shade. They'd improvised an x-ray.

"Willow, do you want to do the honors?"

The question brought her back to what Cariss was doing, and she realized the woman was trying to hand her a razor blade. Shave Spike's head? Was she insane?

"Come on, Willow. You know you want to. When will you have an opportunity like this again?"

She had a point. Spike was very touchy about his hair. She would never have a chance like she did now, to actually do something to the unconscious vampire's hair. Smiling underneath the mask, she accepted the razor and stepped around to the other side of the table, and followed Cariss' directions as to where he needed to be shaved. She idly wondered how long it took a vampire's hair to grow back, or if it grew back. She'd seen images of Darla from the 19th century, and the woman had had long hair. Once it was cut, did it ever grow back? Or was that it, more of a once and done type deal? Would Spike always have a bald spot where she shaved him? Would she have to shave his whole head so that didn't happen, and if she did, would he kill her?

"Are you planning on shaving that any time soon, or did you just want to stand there?"

The question sounded more amused than annoyed, so Willow took a deep breath and lowered the razor to the spot that had already been covered with shaving cream.

"Will it grow back?"

"Yes."

She started dragging the straight razor across the spot when Cariss added, "Probably. Fifty-fifty."

"That's not exactly reassuring."

"Umm, should I be leaving now?"

Both women turned at the very male voice that posed that question, and Willow bit back a yelp. She'd never seen the man who was standing in the living room wearing only a towel, dripping water.

"Not at all Lindsey. Make yourself comfortable. Rent a movie if you want. We'll only be at this for half an hour, an hour at most."

With that, Cariss managed to dismiss the nearly naked man in her living room, and focused her attention back on the unconscious Spike. Willow tried to do the same, but her glance kept going back to the man who gave her a small smirk before retreating to the bedroom, and returned just a few minutes later fully clothed. Buffy would definitely be drooling over him if she ever saw him.

"I'm gonna order room service. You ladies want anything?"

"I'd love a bacon burger, and a Dr. Pepper—oh, Willow, what would you like? My treat for helping."

This wasn't happening. It couldn't be. It was just too surreal to Willow that she was standing in the hotel suite of the most dangerous –she didn't even know what to label the woman—she'd ever read of, who was discussing ordering room service while opening up Spike's skull. With a pretty gorgeous man in the living room ready to place the order like there was nothing out of the ordinary about performing surgery on a vampire in a hotel kitchen.

"Willow?"

And they were actually waiting for her to order something.

"Bacon burger. No rabbit food."

Great-Grandmother Rosenberg would turn over in her grave at the knowledge that Willow had just ordered pork, but it was the first thing that popped into her head. Oh well. She guessed she could always remove the bacon. And what her parents didn't know wouldn't hurt her.

B-B-B-B-B-B-B-B

Giles wasn't just getting concerned, he was getting angry. His calls to the Council had been stalled, and when he did speak to someone he got the "we're taking care of it" runaround he'd given plenty of times himself. That could only mean bad news. That meant it was something big, it was something the Council didn't want him to know, and it was something they had absolutely no control over. They weren't taking care of anything; they were trying to do damage control.

His calls to the Immortal had gone unanswered. It had taken little effort to get from Anya the name the woman was using, and after only a few phone calls, he'd found out where she was staying. He was impressed: a suite, at the Hilton, was not an inexpensive place to stay. He knew that the Council wouldn't put up the funds for a place like this, which only added to his doubts that she was present in any official capacity. That lent credence to his theory that this was something personal for her, which only made him more certain it had something to do with that prophecy. That prophecy that he still hadn't been able to decipher: end of the world, that was nothing new; Immortal Vampyre, well that was a little bit new; but so far as he knew there was only one creature that qualified as an "immortal" vampire, not three. And he didn't understand the significance of Clan Aurelius. He really needed to contact Cariss, and find out what she knew of this prophecy.

It didn't help his mind that Willow was still incommunicado. He'd expected that after the weekend to herself, having some time to calm down, she would have called him. His phone had remained chillingly silent. Nor had she contacted Buffy. No one had heard from her in two days. Buffy had stopped at the dorm room, but Willow wasn't there. He'd considered asking her to stop by Willow's parent's house, but decided against it. Now he was thinking that he should have let her do it. Next time she called him, he would tell her to go ahead over and make sure everything was alright. If Willow didn't want to talk to them, that was one thing, but she should still have the decency to let them know she was alright.

Frustrated at being unable to accomplish either of his goals, he picked up the phone to call Buffy, and started punching in another number instead. Of course, he should have thought of it before! Spike wasn't the only member of the Aurelius bloodline that he knew. Angel might have some knowledge of this prophecy. And Wesley was in Los Angeles with him. If he couldn't get directly to the source, the next logical step was to go to the others.

"Angel Investigations," Cordelia's chipper voice answered on the end of the line.

"Cordelia, I need to speak with Angel, or Wesley, immediately."

"Giles, is that you? Did something happen?"

"Cordelia, if you could please put one of them on the phone."

"Rude much?"

If he didn't know better, he would say the girl actually sounded hurt.

"I'm sorry Cordelia. But it is terribly important that I speak to Angel, or Wesley."

"Hold on a sec."

He was surprised when it was indeed only a short time before the line was picked up again, and this time it was Angel's voice.

"Giles?"

He sounded angry about something, bringing to mind the memories of Giles' torture at Angelus' hands. He shook his head, not caring for that particular trip down memory lane.

"Yes, Angel, I need your help with-"

"There had better be a damn good reason you didn't tell me about Spike," Angel interrupted him. Giles racked his brain, trying to think if anything had happened to the blonde vampire that would have Angel so upset. He came up with nothing. Perhaps something had happened recently that he was unaware of?

"I'm sorry Angel; I don't know what you're talking about."

"I'm talking about the fact that MY childe has a chip in his head that prevents him from feeding on, or defending himself from, humans. And the fact that he's had it for some time, apparently, and you've done nothing to fix it, while keeping him near a damn Slayer who wants to kill him!"

Ah. But—oh bloody hell.

"I'm sorry Angel. I was under the impression that you'd been told."

"And where would you get that impression?"

Giles thought carefully about what he could say to the furious vampire on the other end of the line. Buffy had sworn that she'd told Angel all about Spike, and about the Initiative. She'd declared that Angel had said Spike deserved to have to live with what he'd done, and that they should keep him in Sunnydale to keep an eye on him. He hadn't even questioned it, knowing how much Angel and Spike seemed to hate each other.

"Giles?"

The tone of voice was more threatening than he would have thought possible through a telephone connection. He wouldn't expect Angle to be so concerned about Spike, given the number of times they tried to kill each other, but he had a feeling that if he didn't give an answer he'd be dealing more with Angelus than Angel. No matter how much they might hate each other, they were still Sire and Childe, and that was a bond that ran deep.

"Buffy," he answered softly. "She told me that she'd called you, not long after we destroyed the Initiative facilities."

"She told me about the government experiments. She didn't tell me that Spike was one of them."

"How did you find out-?"

"A friend in Sunnydale called as soon as they found out."

A friend—the Immortal. It must be the Immortal. Giles decided he would have to find out just how many members of Clan Aurelius this woman knew. For some reason he'd just assumed that only she and Spike were old acquaintances. It sounded as if she knew more than he'd believed.

"I'm sorry, Angel. I'll have words with Buffy—"

"No. I'll handle that myself. Now what was it you need help with?"

"I believe that a recent arrival into Sunnydale may be a mutual acquaintance."

He hoped that wasn't a miscalculation on his part. If Angel didn't know the woman personally, he didn't want to change that. He didn't want to imagine the fireworks that could spark between the Immortal and Angel. He had no doubt that either of them could manage to destroy Sunnydale individually, never mind together.

"I'm listening."

"I've found a prophecy, I don't know if you're aware of it, but it involves the Aurelius bloodline and a certain-recent arrival into town. I can't exactly make heads or tails of it."

There was silence on the other end of the line, and for a minute Giles wondered if the line had gone dead.

"Willow can't figure it out?"

"Willow is currently out of contact. No one's seen her since the weekend."

"I'll be there in three hours."

The vampire hung up abruptly, and Giles was left staring at the phone, wondering what the hell just happened.


	10. Chapter 10

"Is he okay? He's not moving."

Cariss glanced down at the unmoving vampire on the table as she finished the process of cleaning up the mess. She didn't care if housekeeping would take care of a great many things with discretion; she doubted surgery counted as one of them.

"He's dead, Willow. And drugged. It'll be awhile until he comes around, but considering he's not ash, I'd say he's fine."

"But—but what about brain damage?"

The redhead was trying her best to hide her concern, Cariss could tell, but she was doing a pretty poor job of it. She was actually surprised Willow wasn't holding his hand and sitting by his side.

"It's not like we'd be able to tell the difference between brain damage and his normal cheerful demeanor now, is it?"

"That's an awful thing to say," Willow protested. Cariss smiled at her.

"Trust me, that's nothing to the insults he'll be slinging my way once he wakes up. Now why don't you take a seat on the couch and let's leave him to it?"

She directed the young woman over to the couch, and pushed her into sitting before curling up beside Lindsey.

"What are we watching, luv?"

"Well, we've got a few options."

He pulled up the list of movies on the hotel movie channel. Dracula (possibly, Gary Oldman was a much better Dracula than the real one), Titanic (pass, she didn't want to relive that. Ever), West Side Story (not so much), or Tombstone, just to name a few. Fortunately the selection process was accomplished without a lot of argument, and Cariss settled in to watch Val Kilmer and Kurt Russell, while they all waited for William to wake up.

"So, how do you know Spike?" Willow asked as the movie began. Really, the girl could at least wait until the movie was over before asking personal questions. Or better yet, wait for another day completely. Still, Cariss supposed she shouldn't have been too surprised. And now Lindsey was looking at her with an interest in the subject.

"You could say he's my brother."

The gob smacked look on the redhead's face would have been funny in any other setting.

"But—but—how is that possible? He's not even a hundred and fifty!"

"A hundred and forty-eight next month, actually. And let's just say that Will and I have a certain creator in common."

"You mean Drusilla—?"

"Where did you get that idea? Dru, turn anyone? Funny joke, the batty woman couldn't even take care of herself! No, Angelus."

"But—that can't be—I mean—everything I've heard of you says you're like, ancient. How can you-?"

"Well, Willow, when a vampire finds someone that they want to make immortal, they-"

"I know how vampires are made!" the redhead sputtered indignantly. "But how did, I mean you—what are you?"

"I was immortal when I met Liam. Later he tried to turn me. Now I'm something else."

The simplest explanation was the only one she was willing to give. And it seemed to satisfy the young woman for the moment, until—

"You knew Angel before he was turned?"

_1752—Ireland_

_Cariss stepped down from the carriage, taking in the sight of the house before her. She was tired, so very tired, but this place at least felt like home. Scotland had only been home with Ewan, and since—NO. She would NOT continue to dwell on it. It was done, Ewan was gone, and Scotland was behind her. _

_It was Methos who suggested her return to Ireland for a bit if she wouldn't take him up on traveling to Rome, after an unexpected encounter in Edinburgh. Once she was sober, and thought about it, the idea appealed to her. She'd probably spent more time in this corner of the world than anywhere else, at least in recent memory. _

_The house was in definite need of minor repairs, but nothing serious enough to keep her out of it. She'd stayed in worse conditions, after all. It was fortunate that no squatter had decided to move in. She would hate to have to evict someone on first arriving back. She ordered the coachmen to set her few trunks in the bedroom. She brought little with her, just enough to see her through a few months. She wasn't sure how long she would stay this time._

_Word of the new arrival spread through the village like wildfire: the locals knew she'd arrived before she ever set foot in the town. Perhaps that was best. She wouldn't have to bother with explanations just yet; their speculation would be more than sufficient until she decided what story to tell. She'd been away from Ireland for nearly twenty years, which should be long enough that she wouldn't be remembered by most, but if she was recognized…_

"_And what would such a lovely colleen be doing walking about town by herself?"_

_The words were only barely slurred, which was impressive, given the state of the man Cariss spun around to face. Hair coming out of its queue, shirt hanging open and—was that a bloodstain?—and smelling of a distillery; Cariss didn't think it was possible for a man to make a worse first impression. There was something about the eyes, though. He looked familiar, and he was looking at her as if he knew her face. _

"_Ye must allow me to escort you to yer destination."_

"_I'm not in need of an escort, thank you."_

_She certainly didn't want a drunken Irishman following her around. No matter how pretty he might be. _

"_But I must insist. Me Ma would never forgive me did I allow a lovely lady such as yerself to wander around unescorted. Now where was it ye were headin'?"_

_He was persistent, for someone so intoxicated, she would give him that. And something in the eyes—he reminded her of Ewan. _

"_Where are my manners? I'm Liam."_

"_Moira."_

_B-B-B-B_

"_Liam?"_

_She'd heard of the fight between father and son; the family's maid was probably the biggest gossip in the town, and she'd run to tell every friend she possessed what had transpired this morning. Cariss learned of it when her own maid returned from the butcher, and she knew immediately that he would be at the tavern, getting as drunk as whatever funds he had on him would allow. She was proven correct when she found him already well in his cups, and pulled him away._

"_Moira, love, did ye come to help me celebrate?"_

_Gods help her; she knew she should have just left him in the street the first time she ever ran into him, more than a year ago. But she hadn't been able to do it, not when she did actually remember the small boy with unruly black hair that used to delight in mischief when she was here last. That boy had held such life, such promise, and while the man might not hold much more than alcohol, that life still held much promise. He seemed to simply lack any real direction for that life._

"_I'd say you've already celebrated enough, Liam."_

_She shook her head at the keeper when he called for another drink, a silent warning in her eyes. He wisely refused to serve any more, and Cariss pulled Liam from his seat and all but carried him out of the tavern._

"_C'mon then, lad. It's time you had more than spirits in you."_

"_There was food back there, colleen."_

"_There was wine back there, idjit."_

_She manhandled him into the carriage, and ordered her manservant to point the horses home. _

"_Ye always take care of me, don't you colleen? Even when I was a boy. Ye must be one of the Faerie folk."_

_She stilled as he leaned against her, resting his head on her chest. He remembered her? _

"_My own Faerie."_

_He couldn't have been more than five when she was here. How could he remember? His hands, which she'd been pushing away as they roamed the silk of her dress, fell limply, and she looked down to see that he'd passed out. _

_It took herself and her manservant to haul the slumbering giant up the stairs to the guest room, with the maid staring, wide-eyed, as she pulled back the blanket and sheet. Cariss dismissed them both as she set about removing Liam's shoes. He looked so innocent as he slept, but she knew that the reputation that had started the familial argument was well earned. She wouldn't have him harassing her servants._

"_So beautiful, my Faerie," he murmured, catching her hand as she attempted to pull away._

"_You need rest, Liam."_

"_Stay with me then, Faerie."_

_It was surprising to learn that even drunk he was physically stronger than she was, and he pulled her down onto the bed with him. She cringed when he leaned in to kiss her, the alcohol wafting from his breath._

"_Liam, you're drunk."_

"_Not so drunk I don't know what I'm doing, Faerie. D'ye have any idea how long I've wanted ye, Moira?"_

_He rolled over so that he was pinning her with his body. Cariss pushed, but he wouldn't budge. Still, he wasn't holding her roughly, and she had the feeling that if she truly protested he would release her. The question was whether she really wanted to protest. Liam was a beautiful young man and it had been so very long since she'd been close with another like this. No, she didn't want to protest._

"_I've wanted ye since I first laid eyes on ye."_

_She woke alone, and it was already full dark. She couldn't say what woke her, but she quickly dressed and hurried down the stairs. A feeling, that something had gone far wrong. _

"_Mistress! I didn't expect you to wake tonight!"_

"_When did Liam leave, Fiona?"_

"_He left not two hours ago, ma'am. He left this for you."_

_She took the sheet of parchment the young woman held out to her, and stood beside the lamp to see as she unfolded it. A drawing of her, sleeping. Liam had captured her likeness exactly. How long had he watched her sleep before he left her? This was not the work of only a few minutes. Her eye was drawn down to the less than meticulous script at the bottom of the sheet._

'_I've wanted ye since I first laid eyes on ye, Faerie. But you're far too sweet an angel for such a devil as I. Find one who deserves ye. Your Liam.'_

_She fought the urge to crumple the parchment. The dear, sweet fool. As if she had any illusions as to the man's character. As if she could be an angel after all the things she'd done in her lifetimes. _

_She wouldn't go after him tonight. He was likely back at the tavern, and if they were going to have the discussion they needed, he must be sober. No, she would go to see him tomorrow afternoon._

_Her note received no response. Not even from Liam's father. She couldn't shake the feeling that something was terribly wrong, and saddled her horse. She was in too much of a hurry to wait for the carriage, and was not at all concerned with the opinion of the villagers who might see her. She tarried only long enough to ensure that she had her pistol and her sword before swinging herself up into the saddle and pointing the animal in the direction of Liam's family home. _

_The door was open, a bad sign. The silence was a worse one. It was not yet nine o'clock, the family shouldn't all be sleeping. Cariss approached the house cautiously, her hand on the pistol she held in the folds of her skirt. _

"_Hello the house!"_

_No answer. The sinking feeling only intensified as she stepped into the doorway and peered inside. They were all dead. The servants, Liam's parents, even his beloved little sister. The blood everywhere was a sure sign that this was no robbery. The girl's neck had puncture wounds. _

"_What brings ye here, Faerie?"_

_Cariss spun around. She hadn't heard Liam approach, and for a moment wondered how he'd managed to escape the attack, until she saw him. Blood stained his cravat, and the ridges on his face—_

"_Oh Liam, no."_

"_Ye know what I am? And how would ye be knowing that, then?"_

"_You murdered your family, Liam."_

"_You haven't answered my question, Moira."_

"_You're hardly the first vampire I've encountered, Liam."_

_He advanced on her, slowly, and she circled around, keeping the table between them. _

"_What's this then? Dessert?"_

_She was grabbed from behind. This had to be Liam's maker, a woman, judging by the voice. Cariss slowly pulled back the hammer on the pistol, hoping it wouldn't be heard as Liam and the woman began arguing._

"_Enough of this, Angelus! Take her, or I will."_

_With a rough shove, Cariss was pushed forward into the arms of the stranger who bore Liam's face. She spun around quickly, bringing the pistol up and pulling the trigger, pointed directly at the woman's stomach. It wouldn't kill the bitch, unfortunately, but it would keep her down long enough to get away._

"_You do have a temper on you, don't you Moira?"_

_She was pulled back against a firm body, and she felt along until she reached his dagger, her movement unnoticed as Liam nuzzled against her neck, his fangs just barely grazing the skin._

"_I'm so sorry, my Liam," she whispered, before using millennia of strength and maneuvering to turn and plunge the dagger deep into his chest. She couldn't bring herself to kill him, so she pushed him away and ran out of the house, vaulting onto her waiting horse and riding off. If there was anything left of Liam in that monster, he might let her go for sentimentality's sake, but the blonde bitch would want her blood, and she didn't intend to wait around to give it to them._

"I knew him."

She was surprised to find tears streaming unchecked down the human girl's cheek as she broke out of the memory she'd apparently been sharing. Funny, she hadn't intended to actually tell anyone about that. Even more surprising were the tears spilling out of her own eyes, and she hastily wiped them away.

"At any rate, I ran into him again about forty years later, and he decided to try to turn me."

"So you knew Darla, and Drusilla."

If she'd known that this was going to turn into a history lesson, she might have just done the surgery herself, or enlisted Lindsey's help.

"What the bloody hell did you sodding people do to me?!"

Everyone looked over at the blonde vampire, who was now sitting up and cursing.

"What the hell did you do to my hair?!"

He looked furious, which had Willow just a little bit concerned. Cariss, however, simple gave the vampire a single raised eyebrow, and a look that said she was less than impressed with his theatrics.

"Oh good, you're awake. We're watching Tombstone."

The blonde continued his grumbling as he slid off the table and walked, a bit shakily, into the living room. He gave a single glare at the man sitting beside Cariss.

"I've seen you somewhere before."

Lindsey shook his head.

"I don't think we've met."

"I've seen you."

"Relax Will, he's here with me. Now why don't you sit down and watch the movie?"

He sat down to do exactly that, and for another hour they just watched, engrossed, until a muffled explosion sent them all into action. Smoke filled the room as Cariss pushed both Lindsey and Willow towards the bedroom. Odds were they weren't the ones these people were looking for. William was on his feet, fangs already bared, as an indistinguishable number of people spilled into the room. Cariss was reaching for her sword when the world went black.

B-B-B-B-B-B-B-B-B-B-B

When she came to, she had to close her eyes against the glare of bright lights. When she tried to push herself up to a sitting position, she realized she was strapped down to this table, or bed, or whatever it was. Not good. And her hands were cuffed behind her back. Even worse. Whoever was responsible for this would be a dead man when she got free.

"Will? You there?"

A groan was her only answer, and she slowly opened her eyes to take a look around. William was strapped down to another table.

"I'm getting more than a little tired of being knocked out and waking up a science experiment. The good news is the surgery worked; I've got my bite back. Took down at least one of those bastards before they got me."

"Do you know where we are?"

The more she looked around the room, the more she had to consider that Robert might have been right. They were definitely in some sort of lab, and she couldn't imagine there were too many of those around Sunnydale, let alone one where they could just haul in abductees. The underground government building conspiracy theory was looking more and more likely. At least they were alone in the room, for the moment. Unless someone was lurking in a corner that they couldn't see.

"Not a clue. Red and your boyfriend?"

"Hopefully they got out. I pushed them to the bedroom."

If they weren't alright…

"Any idea why we were taken?"

"I have an idea, but you're not going to like it."

Confirmation from Wolfram and Hart that the book was missing was just too much of a damned coincidence. No, Cariss was pretty sure that someone had taken it upon themselves to try to bring a certain prophecy to fruition. They needed to get out of here, now, before these fools managed to kill William.

"Can you move at all?"

She heard the sounds of struggling, and looked over to see the vampire straining against his bonds.

"You'll only hurt yourself if you continue to do that."

They both turned at the voice that addressed them as the door opened, and a man stepped in. Cariss didn't recognize, but her eyes widened when she saw the tattoo on his wrist.

"You're a damned Watcher?!"

The man continued to advance on the two of them, a look of distaste on his face.

"Former Watcher, Exalted One. And I do regret the circumstances that bring you here like this."

"Let me go now, and I give you a painless death."

"I cannot, forgive me."

The strange thing was that he did actually look apologetic.

"You have seen the darkness that encroaches on us, Exalted One. You will bear the one who will defeat it, and it is more necessary than ever. Your child will be the savior of humanity. And now we have all the pieces, the prophecy can be fulfilled."

"You're a fool, to believe that ridiculous prophecy. I can't have children!"

"And yet you will. From the line of Aurelius, Ancient Immortal Vampire, two become three and the third shall be the one anticipated at world's end."

"Did you miss the part where this thing called for two Immortal vampires? There's only one in existence you asshole! This isn't going to work!

For the love of all that was holy, this fool really intended to try to impregnate her. The Watchers really thought they could get her pregnant to fulfill a prophecy and then what, take her child? She was going to kill this man.

"Now that we have the Aurelius vampire, we can begin."

"You can't turn a vampire into an Immortal, bastard!"

They would kill William with whatever they attempted to do to him, she was sure of it. There was no way to make a vampire Immortal, and they had to be insane to consider trying it. They should know that, as much as they studied both Immortals and demons.

All those vampires missing, probably dead, and for this? She had no doubt that this lunatic was behind all of the disappearances. How many had he killed for this damned prophecy?

"You misunderstand, Exalted One (and if she wasn't going to kill the human for kidnapping her, she was definitely going to kill him for his continued use of that ridiculous title). The vampire's blood will be used to create your chosen mate."

"Well I'm not choosing a mate, you fucking lunatic, so go to hell!"

"Your chosen has been waiting for you. And now the two of you will fulfill the prophecy that will save the human race from all demons."

Was he really saying that they had some Immortal in their clutches? Oh gods, had they managed to capture Lindsey as well? Where were they keeping him?

"If you've touched a hair on his head I will rip out your liver and make you eat it as you die!"

"He is unharmed, Exalted One, as you see."

Cariss turned her head at the sound of heavy footsteps getting closer, and a shape she couldn't quite see clearly through the windows approached. The only thing she knew for certain as they drew closer was that whoever was coming was too tall to be Lindsey, so perhaps he and Willow had managed to escape. She fervently hoped so. All thought seemed to freeze when she saw exactly who had entered the room. She recognized that flaming red hair, and on a man that tall…..but it shouldn't be possible.

"Ewan?"


	11. Chapter 11

Angel tore down the highway, cutting the trip from LA to Sunnydale in half. If a cop dared to try to pull him over, he would rip them in half. Willow was missing, they had the prophecy, and Spike, a member of the bloodline essential to said prophecy, was unable to defend himself against anything human. On top of all of that, Cariss was in the same area. Nothing good could come of this. In less than two hours, the angry vampire was pounding on Giles' door, and the rather bemused Englishman let him inside.

"I—I didn't expect you to come so quickly, Angel. I've alerted Buffy that we have a problem, but she's still out on patrol."

"Good. I have a few choice words for her. Now, how long has Willow been missing?"

The first order of business was the human girl. Cariss could handle herself; he'd had the injuries to prove it countless times over the centuries. The redhead that William was so focused on could not. If anything happened to Willow, he was pretty sure Spike would lose his tenuous control; chip or no chip.

"A few days. She and Buffy had an argument about Spike, and she stormed out. No one's heard from her since."

They were interrupted by the front door flying open, and the girl they were talking about burst in, followed by a man Angel really hoped to never see again.

"What the hell are you doing here, Lindsey?"

"So not the time for this, Angel. Spike and Siobhan/Cariss/whatever-the-hell her name is were just kidnapped!"

"What? What do you mean?"

Willow looked close to hyperventilating, and Angel guided her to the couch and pushed her head down between her knees. This girl had always been a friend to him when he lived in Sunnydale, and now she was important to not just his childe, but his Faerie. Cariss must have taken a liking to her, to have allowed her anywhere near. He looked to Lindsey for an explanation as Willow tried to recover her ability to breathe.

"What happened?"

"At the hotel, a group of armed men broke into the suite. Siobhan pushed us to hide, and she and the vampire were taken."

"What can you tell me about the men who broke in?"

"Not much. They were masked, and we were being shoved into a bedroom, but I saw a strange tattoo on one's wrist."

Tattoo? Angel grabbed Lindsey, dragging him to the couch. He disappeared, returning moments later with a legal pad and pencil.

"Draw it," he ordered the human. Everyone was quiet for a few moments, as Giles tended to Willow and Lindsey sketched. He handed the pad back to Angel, who took a single glance at it and vamped out. He shoved the pad under Giles' nose.

"You want to tell me what the fuck is going on here?"

"Bloody hell," the Watcher exclaimed quietly. "Angel, I swear I knew nothing about it."

"What is it?" Willow was finally able to speak, and she looked at the legal pad curiously.

"That tattoo is used by the other branch of the Watchers. They damned Watchers are the ones who took Spike, and Cariss."

Willow couldn't believe what she was hearing. Watchers kidnapped Spike? But why? Since when did Watchers interfere with anything? And—

"What's this about another branch of the Watchers? How many branches are there?"

"There are two branches. One branch monitors all things supernatural, such as Slayers, demons, etc, and one branch monitors something else altogether. Why they would have taken them is not something I can answer."

"Don't be ridiculous Watcher. You know exactly why they were taken."

Giles paled a bit under the vampire's furious glare. He had a feeling he was dealing more with Angelus than Angel at the moment, and not even the presence of his soul might be enough to hinder him if he decided on violence as the appropriate response.

"Trying to force a prophecy into fruition isn't—"

"It's exactly the kind of thing you Watchers would do. Where would they take them?"

"Think about what you're saying, Angel. They would have to have another Immortal to even begin to attempt such a thing."

Willow watched the two men argue back and forth. She had half an idea what they were talking about, and she didn't like the thought. The prophecy made no sense to her, but there could only be one prophecy they were talking about. She finally had to interrupt them.

"What does that prophecy mean, Angel? Why would these Watchers want to try to make it come true?"

They were interrupted by the arrival of Buffy, who burst through the doors, Riley close on her heels, Anya and Xander not far behind them. She spared barely a look for Lindsey, and only half a glance for Willow, before all of her attention was focused on the vampire in front of her. The vampire who was currently looking at her as if he wanted to rip her spine out with his bare hands.

"Angel."

"Willow! Thank God you're alright. Where have you been?" Xander pulled the slight redhead into a fierce hug.

"I'm fine Xander. But someone kidnapped Spike, and, um, I have no idea what name you knew her by."

"Save the reunions for later. Right now your bigger priority is finding Spike and Cariss."

"Cariss who?" Buffy looked at Giles blankly. "That thing that attacked me? Good riddance."

Faster than the blink of an eye, Angel had Buffy against the wall, holding her up by the throat.

"That THING is mine, Slayer! My childe! And I don't doubt that you gave her reason to attack you, so I would keep my mouth shut if I were you. You already have plenty to answer for."

"Angel!"

He ignored Willow trying to talk him down, or the others yelling at him to put Buffy down. He even ignored Riley, the former commando who tried to tackle him away. All of his rage was for the woman he currently held pinned, the woman who'd left his childe to suffer and lied to him about it, and who'd dared attack HIS Faerie. If either Spike or Cariss was hurt, she would pay with her life.

"Alright, that's enough!"

They were all startled when Lindsey yelled into the melee. Giles looked at the unknown male in surprise, and Angel looked at him with new appreciation when his yell did indeed silence the others.

"I don't give a damn what beef you all have with each other. I've watched brain surgery, been flash bombed and shoved into a room, and now I've had to come here and listen to you bitching like a bunch of five year olds! This isn't some stupid game here! People are missing, and the ones who took them were organized, which means this was planned out. So ya'll are going to stop arguing like idiots, and we're going find out exactly where they were taken, before I get really pissed off! And right now I don't care if I have to hit a girl, Angel can have whatever's left of you when I'm done if you don't shut up and start helping!"

"Who the hell do you think you are?" Buffy glared at him. He stared at her, unimpressed.

"He's with, um,-" Willow trailed off, not even sure what name to use. She'd heard too man y of them, all used to refer to the same person. Lindsey himself looked unsure of exactly what to call her.

"Her real name is Cariss, Willow. Or at least that's the name she's had the longest. She might not even know what her real name was. And he's right," Angel reluctantly agreed as he lowered Buffy to the ground, "this fighting is getting us nowhere. Buffy, if you're not going to help, then get out of here. I'll track you down later."

Buffy stood, amazed, as she was promptly forgotten while the others gathered around Giles kitchen table. Angel had looked at her as if he hated her, and even Giles looked disappointed. The stranger had chewed her out as if she was a kid. She was the Slayer! How dare they dismiss her! If they were right, they would need her a lot more than they needed any of the others! Why was Angel acting this way? She leaned against the wall, stewing, not paying any attention until she heard Riley speak up.

"Wait a minute. Willow, I think you had the right idea the other day, when you said that maybe all the vampire disappearances were because whoever was behind it was looking for a specific vampire, and just didn't know who it was. What if it was this group that took Spike? If they were looking specifically for him, and just didn't know it for sure until Cariss came to town and they saw them together?"

"That's a sound theory, but what's the point?"

Riley leveled an unflinching look at Lindsey, who looked ready to hit something.

"How many places in Sunnydale could they hold a vampire, or maybe even multiple vampires, without drawing attention? That's not something that can be done in a hotel suite."

"He's right Lindsey. If Willow's theory is right, that narrows down the places they could be."

"Oh God."

They all turned to stare at Willow, who had a horrified look on her face.

"The Initiative."

"No," Riley shook his head vehemently, "it was destroyed. They never rebuilt the program."

"What about the bunker? The house above was destroyed, but what about the bunker under it? If it's still intact, it would be an ideal place for holding vampires, since that's what it was designed to do."

"It's worth looking into."

B-B-B-B-B-B

"Hello, Fiona."

The redheaded giant stood beside the table Cariss was strapped to, and quickly loosened the restraints. He stopped short of actually removing the handcuffs, but that didn't matter. She could get rid of those easily enough, now that she was up and mobile.

"I'm sure they told you that's not my real name."

"It was your name when I knew you, love."

She looked up at him. She was by no means short being five foot eight, but he stood at well over six feet, closer to six and a half. He towered over her. Always had.

"How are you still alive? They beheaded you?"

"We have much to discuss, Fiona. Walk with me."

He took hold of her elbow, and started to steer her out of the room. She stopped at the doorway, sparing a glance at the fool human who'd slipped on a lab coat and was staring at William eagerly.

"If you so much as touch him, every human in this building will die," she hissed in warning. He at least seemed intelligent enough to understand the threat, and that she meant it. He set down the syringe he'd picked up, and backed away from the vampire snarling at him. Ewan pulled her from the room.

They walked a short distance down the hall before he stopped, and backed her into the wall before kissing her. Against her better judgment, Cariss responded eagerly. She'd missed him, so very much, and for the moment she didn't care why he was here now, or why he'd disappeared for nearly three centuries.

"I've missed you so much, Fiona." He breathed as he broke the kiss, leaning his forehead against hers.

"How are you here, Ewan?" she asked once she could think clearly again. She'd spent centuries dreaming of this moment, knowing it to be impossible, and now….

"They did come to the house that day, while you were gone. I woke inside the Watchers' hut. They'd killed me. "

"That damned Watcher said you'd been beheaded."

"A small lie."

"A small lie?! I destroyed that entire village for killing you, Ewan! Every man, woman and child! Why did you not come to me? How could you stay with the very one who led the mob to kill you?! "

"Because they showed me the truth, Fiona! I knew, the moment I woke, that what you'd said was true. And I knew that I was cursed by the very devil to be what I am! But they showed me that I have a far larger part to play, the same as you."

"You can't tell me you actually believe these fools! They're mad, Ewan! We're not witches, or demons cursed by the devil to this existence! We are Immortal; no more, no less. And all of their prophesying doesn't change that fact!"

Her heart sank as she saw the light of the fanatic in his eyes. He'd had centuries with these madmen, who'd convinced him that fulfilling this prophecy was his redemption. Nothing she could say in the next ten minutes would change that.

"You'll see, Fiona. Once I'm like you, we will create the child that will save the world at the end of days. Our sin, our evil, will be forgiven by this action. We will be redeemed."

"Oh, Ewan. I've failed you."

He hauled her down the hall to a door, and pushed it open to reveal a small bedroom. She recognized the sporran sitting on a dresser; it belonged to Ewan when they were married. This must be his room. Ewan carefully pushed her down onto the large bed.

"I'll return soon, Fiona. And we will re-make the world."

She shrugged away when he reached for her again, and he settled for placing a kiss on her head. With a quiet shut of the door, he was gone. Cariss immediately pushed herself to her feet. She couldn't just sit back and do nothing, not with William's life on the line. She didn't know just how they planned to make Ewan into an Immortal Vampire; but she was sure that William wouldn't be cooperative, and that it would most likely kill him.

Making her way over to the dresser, she grabbed the sporran with her teeth, and carried it back to the bed. It was easier to get it open if she sat down in front of it and worked on it with her cuffed hands. Surely there was something inside that she could use to free herself. Yes! That was it! A small pocket knife tucked in a bottom corner. Perfect. It would be easier if she could see what she was pulling open, but she didn't concern herself with it. She would heal instantly from a small knife wound, should she manage to slice her hand open. Finally, she found the small screwdriver, and went to work.

It was a ridiculously short time later that she was free, and she was almost insulted at how badly they'd underestimated her. She dismissed that from her mind, however. She had far more important things to worry about; things like destroying those damned Watchers and saving William's life. She quickly rifled through Ewan's things, until she came across what she was looking for: his sword. Oh hell, he was using his old broadsword. That thing was almost as big as she was. There was no way she could wield that thing. Surely he had a smaller one?

She opened the closet door and hit pay dirt. These couldn't all be Ewan's; the Watchers must have acquired a collection. Or they were the swords of Immortals he'd killed. He wouldn't be the first to collect the swords of his kills. She had a fairly sizable collection in a storage unit in Zurich. She found one similar in size and weight to her own sword, and grabbed it.

X-X_-X-X-X-X-X

Spike cursed the idiot Watcher who was approaching him with the syringe, yet again. He must have decided he'd waited long enough.

"When I get out of here, I'm going to rip out your liver and make you eat it!"

He didn't know what was going on with Cariss, or where that damned giant had taken her, but at the moment he had to be more focused on getting out of his own predicament. He could worry about her once he was free of this lab. She could take care of herself until then.

"Silence, creature!"

The punch to the face wasn't entirely unexpected, but he still vamped out. This human was going to die slowly, and painfully for that.

"That's unnecessary, Roland. After all, this vampire's sacrifice will enable us to save humanity. You should show more respect than that."

Bloody hell. The giant was back, without Cariss.

"What the hell have you done to her?!"

"Fiona is alive and unharmed. I could never hurt my own wife, bloodsucker. She has a part to play in this, just as you do."

He took the syringe from the one he'd called Roland, and stepped up to the table. Spike growled at him as he unceremoniously plunged it into a vein and drew out a vial of blood, then drew several more.

"I want to thank you for your sacrifice, vampire. With your blood, we will save humanity from darkness."

Spike struggled against the restraints, but they didn't budge. He watched as the giant injected the blood into his own arm. What the hell? Did he really think he could become a vampire that way?

"You're a damned fool, and I'm going to tear you apart!"

"I'm far older than you, vampire."


	12. Chapter 12

Riley stood in front of the burned out shell that used to be his home. He'd purposely avoided coming back to this place, where so many of his friends had died. He couldn't look at this place without thinking of Forrest. To his right, Graham stood beside him, thinking the same thing.

"Thanks for coming, Graham. You didn't have to."

If someone's trying to pick up where we left off, then yes I do. It's our fault that place is even there to begin with."

"You understand that these are humans we're dealing with? Civilians?"

"From what you said, they're not civilians. I'm okay with that."

He'd called in his former team mate, feeling they would need all the help they could get. Graham had taken a bit of convincing when he saw Angel, but Willow had managed to persuade him. Riley hadn't even known that his friend knew the redhead, but whatever worked.

"Standing there isn't going to accomplish anything boys."

He saw Graham narrow his eyes at Angel, who'd passed them as they stood staring. Riley didn't know what had the vampire so up in arms over this situation, but he would bear watching. The threat Angel had made to Buffy at Giles' house was very real. He didn't care about their past history; he wasn't going to let the vampire hurt her.

"Please tell me I can stake him once this is over."

"I wouldn't try it. He's not the average hostile."

Besides, he kind of wanted to save that joy for himself, if Angel tried to hurt Buffy. They followed the vampire into the ruins, the others close behind them. Riley was glad that Buffy was working with them, and her friends all seemed ready for what they were about to do, but he was worried about the strange man Angel had named Lindsey. Lindsey was an unknown, and he hated unknowns. How did they know they could trust this guy?

They spread out to search the remains of the building. Riley half-hoped that Willow would be wrong, and they wouldn't find anything. He wanted this over as soon as possible, but he didn't want to find anything that connected this issue with the Initiative, not even the building they were using. He wanted to leave that behind him. Just knowing that they'd left a working building for later people to find and use for their own agenda sickened him. When would his misguided service stop coming back to haunt him?

"You realize that none of this is our fault, Ri."

Graham was nudging him in the shoulder, shaking him from his thoughts.

"Are you sure about that? We did leave the installation without making sure it was destroyed. If they're down there—'

"If they're down there then at least you know where they are. If they're fanatics, like this vampire thinks, they would have found somewhere to do all this even if the bunker wasn't intact. How easy do you think it would be to find them then?"

He was glad Graham was with him to help put that into perspective. He was right: they did at least know where these people were if they were in fact using the bunker. They knew that bunker like the back of their hand, and that gave them an advantage.

"Over here!"

They followed the sound of Xander's voice, and found the old elevator shaft. There was an addition: a piece of metal placed over the shaft, with a door set into it. Right in front of them was the proof that someone had found this place and was putting it to some use, whether it was the people they were looking for or someone else. Riley and Graham both pointed their weapons at the door before nodding to Angel to open it. The others all stepped back when the vampire flung the door open with more force than was necessary, and it landed with a loud bang against the metal flooring.

"Nice one, Angel. Now they know we're here."

Okay, maybe Riley disliked Lindsey a little less for daring to voice to the dangerous vampire what they were all thinking.

"Don't tempt me, McDonald."

"Bring it, once we get out of here."

The vampire, who was in full "game face", as Buffy and the others called it, turned to glare at the shorter man. Riley almost took a step back himself at the raw fury on the creature's face. Without another word to any of them, Angel dropped down the shaft.

"How far down is that again?" Xander asked no one in particular.

"Too far to try to jump. I'd suggest the ladder. And hurry, before all the fun is over."

They followed at a human pace, climbing one by one down the ladder, with Buffy leading the way. It worried Riley, the way Buffy seemed to have trouble finding her voice when Angel was around, and clearly furious at her. She claimed it was over between the two of them, but was it really, if he could still affect her like that? He shook his head to clear it. This wasn't the time for those thoughts.

B-B-B-B-B-B

Cariss inched her way slowly down the hallway, back towards the labs. She had no idea how many people were involved in this, and she didn't want to run into any unprepared. She couldn't afford to have someone raise the alarm. Her attention was caught by a loud thud, the clang of metal on metal, echoing through the building. She dismissed it quickly, having far more important things to worry about. That thud was inconsequential, unless it was bringing more people she would have to deal with.

A door opened ahead of her, and a portly man she didn't recognize started walking in her direction. She recognized the tattoo on his wrist, though. He was a damned Watcher. That was all she needed to know. He was undoubtedly involved in this sacrilege. Before he had a chance to notice her coming at him and raise the alarm, she ran him through with her borrowed sword. She stayed only long enough to make sure he stopped breathing before she continued on her way.

She didn't encounter any other people, which was a good thing, but nor did she find any of the missing vampires, and she knew that they had been held here. They must have killed them all when they were done with them. The loss of a number of vampires didn't necessarily bother her, but it didn't bode well for William's fate.

She reached the lab she'd been taken from, and dared a quick look in the window. Ewan was in there, injecting something into his arm. The other human had a Watcher's tattoo on his wrist, and he was leaning over William.

"You almost have to wonder what's so special about this one," he was saying to Ewan, who was nodding absently. "There's nothing visible that sets him apart from any of the others we've brought here, nothing that states unequivocally that he is one of the chosen ones. And yet it is his bloodline that will enable us to bring forth the child that will save humanity."

His blood? Cariss' eyes darted back to Ewan, and the syringe in his arm. The vial was filled with something red. Was he really injecting William's blood into his arm? He was trying to make himself and Immortal Vampire by mingling William's blood with his own?

She was concerned with how weak William appeared to be. How much blood had they drained from him? She saw a tray full of blood-filled vials, and a number of empty vials sitting on the counter. She had to get him out of there. The question was how to do it before they had time to stake him. Taking down the human wouldn't cause her a moment's concern, but could she really kill Ewan?

The sound of footsteps coming from further up the corridor caught her attention, and she looked up, sword at the ready. To her surprise, it was Liam. She could easily see the visible evidence of his anger, and signaled him to stop before he could alert the people in the lab to his presence. He instantly stopped, then began an almost silent approach, until he reached the side of the doorway that didn't have a window.

"Do we have enough of the vampire's blood, Ewan?"

'Blood?' Angel mouthed to Cariss. She simply nodded. He didn't wait to hear anything more; he sped into the room and Cariss watched as he very nearly ripped the arm off the Watcher who was approaching William with a stake, ready to finish him off. The stake clattered to the ground, and Ewan spun around at the interruption. He lunged for Angel as the vampire freed Spike from his restraints, and Cariss used the distraction to slide into the room and stop him with the point of the sword. He turned to face her, surprised.

"Fiona?"

"I won't let you do this, Ewan."

She would leave the Watcher to Liam and William. Ewan was hers to deal with.

"And I won't let you stop me. You can't see it yet, Fiona, but we will save the world."

He moved, and she moved her sword in time with him, pushing the tip of the blade into his chest. He raised an eyebrow at her.

"Will you really kill me, Fiona?"

"Only if you make me, Ewan. Walk away now, and let me never see you again, and I'll let you live."

She hoped he would take the offer. She didn't want to be responsible for his death a second time. He looked as if he was considering it, until he darted to the other side of the room. She was surprised again at how quickly he moved for a man of his size. He came up with a sword she recognized very well. Those bastards had taken her sword when they'd taken her and Will.

"Don't do this Ewan."

"I cannot allow you to undo centuries of preparation, Fiona. These vampires are insignificant, their lives nothing. Only we matter."

"If you really believe that, then you are lost!"

Angered, he lunged, exactly as she expected him to do.

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

Angel watched as Cariss and the giant took the fight outside of the lab. He wasn't worried about his Faerie; she could well take care of herself. But he heard her call the giant Ewan, and from her descriptions, and the sketch he'd found a couple of centuries ago, he had little doubt who the giant was; and if he was indeed who Angel believed him to be, she would have a lot of trouble. He knew how difficult it was to intentionally kill someone who meant so much to you.

He quickly dismissed Cariss and her fight from his mind. Another childe of his was right in front of him, and needed his help more than his Faerie did. Spike looked like they'd managed to almost completely drain him. He helped Spike sit up, making sure the blonde vampire wouldn't fall over the moment he removed his hands. His childe desperately needed blood.

He looked around for that unfortunate human who'd been about to stake his childe. The man was nowhere to be found, so Angel stepped out into the corridor and found the man trying to run away. He was on him in an instant, dragging him back to the lab. He thrust the whimpering man at Spike, who was trying to stand up.

"Take him, Spike."

"You don't understand what we're trying to do here!" The man protested, staring at Angel, as if that would save him.

"I know exactly what you were trying to do. I just don't care. You took two of my children, and you tried to kill one of them."

He was relieved to see Spike vamp out, and easily sink his fangs into the human who was now screaming. Spike was feeding normally, without a trace of the pain Angel had been told hit whenever he tried to hurt a human. Cariss must have been successful in removing the damned chip before they were taken.

He waited, silently, until Spike drained the man completely dry, and dropped the corpse to the ground. The effect of blood on his childe was instantly visible.

"Are you ready to do some damage? We still have to find the others who attacked you."

"Never been more ready, Peaches."

He was ready. He could finally kill those bastards who'd attacked them in the hotel. He could hurt humans again. More important even than that, he could finally claim his Red. The little witch wouldn't know what hit her.

B-B-B-B-B-B

Buffy reached the bottom of the elevator shaft to the sound of metal clanging on metal, and she immediately moved in that direction. Somewhere Spike was down here, and that demon who'd dared try to claim she could kill the Slayer. Both of them had to go.

Everything had been going great until that demon showed up, but now Angel hated her, and even Giles was looking at her like she'd done something wrong. He was actually taking Angel's side on the Spike issue. So what if she hadn't actually told Angel about Spike? The blonde vampire deserved to suffer, and she knew Angel hated him as much as she did. But no, Angel actually showed up and had the nerve to be mad at her, as if he suddenly cared about what happened to the vampire who'd tried more than once to kill him.

And that demon. That bitch who'd managed to break her ankle and her wrist. She dared to treat her like she was nothing more than a fly to be swatted. She was the Slayer! The oldest living Slayer in history! Chosen to fight and destroy evil! Who was this creature who claimed she killed better Slayers than she? No, she would kill this demon bitch, and she would see to it that Spike was finally out of their lives for good. Then everything could go back to normal, and Angel could go back to L.A.

She heard the others finally making it down the ladder as she moved. Riley and Graham had kept up pretty easily, but waiting for the others was just torture. She loved that her friends cared enough about her to help her out, but they weren't Slayers, nor were they trained soldiers like Riley. More often than not she felt like she had to babysit them, and make sure they didn't hurt themselves, which cost her concentration.

"Buffy!"

The sound of Riley calling her name was enough to startle her from her thoughts and she spun just in time to catch the arm of a man who'd lunged at her. Once again, worrying about her friends had almost cost her. The man was fully armed, and she hadn't even noticed that he was there. Several more armed men poured out of what must have been a hidden room, and Buffy was grateful she was joined by Graham and Riley. Now if only Angel was here to fight beside her.

Her thought was answered only a minute later, but not in the way she'd hoped. Angel came alright, but so did Spike, and he was vamped out and pissed off. Great. Just what she needed: to have to listen to a whining Spike. These were humans, she could tell. He couldn't hurt them.

She was forced to reevaluate that belief when he tore into one of the humans trying to shoot him. Literally. Oh shit, Spike wasn't neutered anymore. But when did that happen? Had that demon woman actually found a way to get rid of his chip? This was so very bad. But on the plus side, she could now stake him without feeling guilty. And she would do it, just as soon as they handled this current problem.

"Glad you decided to leave a few for the rest of us, Angel. It's just like old times, isn't it?"

"Don't bet on it, Slayer. We still have a score to settle once this is over."

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX XXXXXX

Cariss ducked, dodging the blade that swung at her, and immediately shot back up. Ewan was good, even better than she'd anticipated. But she still had millennia of experience over him. He would slip up eventually.

"We don't have to keep fighting, Fiona. We want the same things, to make this world better. Join us willingly, and see what we'll become!"

"You've spent too much time with the Watchers, Ewan. Haven't you figured out yet that they were lying to you? We're nothing more than a means to an end for them."

Block the sword coming at you, parry, thrust, spin out of the way. They were moving down the corridor again, this time with Ewan advancing. Cariss let him, to give herself time to regroup. She was having a much harder time with the idea of killing him than she'd expected. She had to stop thinking of him as her husband. He was serious in his intent to kill William, and to try to force her into fulfilling a prophecy. If she wanted to come out of this in one piece, she had to think of him as the enemy. Ewan was gone. He'd been gone for near three hundred years.

"You don't understand. Those vampires have managed to turn you against me!"

"You've done that yourself!"

"You betrayed me!"

"The Watchers betrayed you! They lied to you!"

"You left me to them! And now you would kill me for becoming what I should be?!"

He was getting angry, and he lunged wildly. Cariss easily countered it.

"You should have been my husband! You should have been with me all those years!"

Her next attack drew blood. He might be the taller person, but she was the quicker. She made contact a second and third time before getting behind him and kicking him, forcing him off balance. He stumbled, and started moving back down the corridor. She followed.

In a surprising move, he turned around and lunged for her, and she only barely managed to avoid being impaled on his sword. Instead, there was a large gash across her abdomen that instantly healed.

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

Angel watched, satisfied, as the last of the Watcher's minions were disposed of. He'd ignored Giles' very vocal objections that they shouldn't kill the humans. He knew that he would feel some remorse for the carnage later, but at the moment, all he could feel was satisfaction. Those corpses had killed who knew how many vampires in their pursuit of this prophecy. They'd fully intended to kill Spike, and forcibly impregnate Cariss, if their work was successful. His soul might protest against killing humans, but his inner demon was rejoicing in the victory over those who threatened his children. Now all he had to do was collect Cariss, settle his issue with Buffy, and he could go back to LA in the knowledge that all was well within his world.

He could hear the sound of fighting down the corridor, and started to move in that direction. He'd really expected the giant to be dead by now. If she was really having such a problem doing the killing, he'd be happy to help out.

He stopped before he could actually land in the middle of the fighting, which was suddenly right in front of him. They moved much faster than humans should be able to. It was expected of Cariss, but the giant? Had he managed to take so much of Spike's blood? He growled when he saw blood soaking through a gash in Cariss' shirt.

"Liam, stay out of this!"

That was what he intended to do, unless it became obvious his interference was necessary. He watched as swords flew, colliding hard enough to in some cases create sparks as they scraped together. They looked evenly matched, but he could tell that Cariss was holding back. She could get herself killed if she didn't start taking this seriously! He was distracted from the fight by the sound of footsteps, running, getting closer, and he turned around to stop Lindsey from running into the middle of it.

"What the hell?!"

"Liam, get him out of here!"

He didn't know what Cariss saw in the lawyer, but he wasn't going to ignore that tone of voice. If she wanted him gone, Lindsey would be gone. He grabbed the smaller man and started to physically drag him back down the hallway. He pushed the human out of the way when he heard someone rushing at them, and spun around, fangs bared. He brought up an arm to block the sword that was coming for Lindsey, aimed at the notch between shoulder and neck. The point of a sword protruding through the giant's chest stopped him from doing anything further. The look of disbelief on the giant's face was something that Angelus was reveling in. The sword was pulled from the body with a sickening noise, and Cariss was standing between them and the Immortal who'd fallen to his knees.

"You would choose them over me?"

"You made the choice for both of us."

"I loved you."

The words were even more intent for the fact that they were barely above a whisper.

"Not enough. Goodbye."

There was no time for her intent to register in the other's eyes before his head was separated from his body with a single powerful swing. The sword fell from Cariss' hands with a clang once it was done, and she fell to her knees beside the body. Angel watched, morbidly fascinated, as what could only be described as fingers of lightning danced along the headless body, and arced into Cariss. He could see his Faerie fighting against whatever was happening to her, but she finally gave up, screaming. Angel had to grab Lindsey, who'd lunged for her.

"Don't!"

"It's killing her!"

"Just wait."

It was a struggle to hold the lawyer down. Lindsey was surprisingly hard to hold onto as he struggled to get to the woman practically seizing on the floor. It seemed an interminable wait until she finally collapsed onto the floor, and he let Lindsey go. The human made it to Cariss only a second before he did. Lindsey pulled her into his arms before the vampire could do so. She was crying, silently, which Angel had never seen as a good sign.

"Cariss?"

The two men looked at each other, at a loss as to what to do. Approaching footsteps were a harsh interruption to the two who had eyes only on the woman with them, and Angel looked up to see that the others had joined them.

"What the-"

Angel was pretty sure that came from the soldier that Buffy's little toy Riley brought with him. He didn't really care who it was, so long as they didn't get in his way.

"Stay clear, all of you."

Buffy tried to surge past the others, a knife in her hand. Angel saw it just before she broke free of Riley and Graham, and in a quick strike sent her flying into the wall, his fangs out and ready to attack.

"Buffy!"

"Giles, she's a demon! You've seen what she did! She can't be allowed to live! We have to kill her!"

When she made for another lunge, Angel picked her up and bodily shoved her into the floor, knocking the knife out of her hand, and nearly cracking the flooring from the impact.

"Try that again and I'll rip your heart out of your chest."

"Angel!"

He spared a glance for Giles, who took a single step forward then stopped. Smart Watcher. Even the soldier boys were staying out of it.

"Angel, we've got bigger issues than the Barbie doll over there."

Lindsey was right (damn that man). He had his childe to worry about. With a single warning growl he shoved Buffy away, not paying any attention to how far down the corridor she slid. He dismissed the Slayer from his thoughts completely as he took Cariss from the human's arms so that he could get to his feet. Following the scent of fresh air, they found the hidden exit to the woods. The rest of the group followed at a discreet interval, with the exception of Buffy and Riley. As they made their way out of the bunker, he wondered if any of the others had even noticed that two members of the party were conspicuously absent.


	13. Chapter 13

**THREE MONTHS LATER**

Willow struggled against the handcuff keeping her trapped with the sleeping vampire. She wasn't even sure where she was anymore. She'd lost count of the number of times they'd moved.

_The man who'd attacked her had managed to knock her to the ground. It had taken a lot of effort on his part, and she was sure if she hadn't just dealt with another one trying to ambush her it would have been even harder, but he finally managed it. And now he was coming at her, and judging by the look on his face he meant to kill her. No one else seemed to notice her problem: they all had fights of their own going on, even Xander and Anya. Angel had disappeared long before they even made it to the bottom of the elevator shaft. This was kind of ridiculous. They were all human, after all! Why where they trying to kill each other? Why were there people who really thought they were supposed to meddle in the supernatural? And yes, she realized that made her seems more than slightly hypocritical. _

_She looked up when, without warning, her attacker was pulled off of her, and she managed to sit up in time to see Spike drain the man. When had he shown up? At least he was alright. She'd been worried they wouldn't make it in time. If they'd managed to kill him…well, she didn't need to think about that anymore. Spike was fine. And back to his old tricks. And there was Angel, saying something to Buffy that made the Slayer mad._

"_You alright, Red?"_

"_I'm good. Thanks."_

"_Don't mention it."_

_He extended a hand, which she accepted readily, but instead of simply pulling her to her feet, he effortlessly tossed her over his shoulder and took off. She wanted to scream, but the speed at which he was moving knocked the breath out of her. What was going on?_

_They didn't stop moving until they reached Spike's car, and he unceremoniously shoved her in it. Had he really just run all the way across Sunnydale? She didn't have time to ask him anything before the car was flying down the highway. She buckled her seat belt as they sped down the road, hoping he didn't manage to kill her in a car crash._

"_Spike, what are you doing?"_

_He didn't answer her, but the look he directed at her gave her the feeling that whatever he had in mind wasn't good._

She tugged once more against the handcuff, and then froze when she felt Spike stirring beside her.

"You should be sleeping, Red," he muttered sleepily as his hands started roaming freely, before he pulled her flush against him and started nuzzling her neck, "unless you had something else in mind."

"No!"

She felt his chest rumble with a soft growl behind her, but he didn't push. He just wrapped an arm around her and closed his eyes again.

"I've got all the time in the world, Pet."

That wasn't reassuring. For some reason, the vampire was under the delusion that Willow would decide she wanted this. Apparently hearing "No" for three months wasn't enough to get through to him. He was never violent, thank goodness, but that actually only confused her more. Spike was a more considerate lover when forcing her than her chosen partners were. He was just determined to ignore the fact that she wasn't a willing participant. He steamrolled over her very vocal objections, and moved them frequently so that she never knew for certain where they were. She idly had to wonder if Drusilla had ever dealt with this during their decades together. If so, it was easier to sympathize with the batty vampire who'd tried on more than one occasion to kill them all. After four aborted escape attempts, he'd finally taken to handcuffing her to the headboard while he slept during the day. At least he hadn't turned her.

"_What are we doing here?"_

_She looked around the apartment apprehensively. It had taken fourteen solid hours of driving to reach this place, and she'd fallen asleep during that time. She had no idea where they were, but the building had looked abandoned when he'd pulled her out of the car. She didn't see anyone around; they appeared to be completely alone, and she was at Spike's mercy._

"_This is home for the moment, luv. Make yourself comfortable."_

"_What? No, Spike, you have to let me go. Take me back to Sunnydale, now, and we'll forget this whole thing ever happened."_

"_There's no going back, Red. You remember what I told you?"_

_She had no idea what he was talking about, and said as much._

"_You're mine now, Red. There's no going back to those sodding idiots in Sunnyhell. Besides, once your heart stops beating, they'd just try to kill you."_

_Her thoughts drifted back to that night that felt so long ago, when he came into her dorm room wearing a similar expression and telling her that she had the choice to not stay dead. Oh goddess, was he—could he really mean to—_

"_No!"_

_She would not let him turn her into a vampire! She would NOT lose her soul and become a killer! She would stake herself before she let him kill her! _

"_Calm down, Red. I'm not going to do it this minute. There are too many other things we could do instead."_

_She lunged away when he reached for her, nearly knocking over the couch in the process. This wasn't happening. This wasn't—she was going to wake up any moment, she knew it. She couldn't let Spike get his hands on her. If he managed to get a hold of her, it was all over. She tore down the hallway, not knowing where she was going, knowing only that Spike was behind her, so she had to go the other way. She somehow managed to get into the bathroom and slam the door, locking it as she pulled out her cell phone. Her first call was to 911, but it didn't work. Why wouldn't it work?!_

"_Red, open the door!"_

_She ignored Spike yelling on the other side of the flimsy door and punched in the first number she could think of. It picked up on the first ring._

"_Willow?!"_

"_Buffy! I've been—"_

"_Willow, where are you?!"_

"_I don't know where I am, but Spike's—"_

_She didn't get to finish her sentence as the door splintered under the force of Spike kicking through it. He knocked the phone out of her hand and stepped on it, crushing it completely. Willow shrank back into the shower. Spike was completely vamped out, and he looked pissed. She just hoped he didn't hurt her too badly; she remembered reading that he had a thing for torture when he was first turned. His eyes glowed as he stared at her, before carefully reaching out and brushing a strand of hair out of the way. _

"_Spike, please don't—"_

_She hated the trembling note that crept into her voice, but thought she could be forgiven, considering that she was being petted by a mass murderer. There was nowhere for her to go when he reached for her and pulled her to him before sweeping her up into his arms and carrying her into the bedroom. Nor was there anywhere for her to go when he placed her on the bed and then pinned her in with his arms, leaning in to nuzzle her. There wasn't a thing she could to stop the vampire who currently looked more monster than man as he started undoing the button and zipper of her jeans._

Spike waited, motionless, until he felt the redhead in his arms drift off to sleep. He'd exercised more patience in the last three months than he ever had to with Dru. His Red was having a hard time accepting that she was his. It was starting to worry him. She would be a lot happier if she would just accept the fact that she wasn't leaving him. He would never let her go.

He would move them again, soon. They'd already been here longer than they could really afford to stay. He didn't know if the Slayer was on their trail or not, but he wasn't taking the chance. If the twit came after them, he would have to kill her. And Willow would never forgive him for killing her friend.

He'd like to take her back to L.A.; ever since the incident in Sunnyhell he'd had the almost overwhelming urge to reconnect with his Sire, but he wouldn't do so until he knew for sure that her loyalty was to him. He had to be completely confident that she wouldn't run off if given the chance before he would get so close to her home turf. Willow didn't realize how lucky she was that so far he'd kept her on the same continent, if not always the same country. He could have just as easily spirited her off to England, or France.

B-B-B-B-B

Cariss stepped off the plane and onto the ramp. It felt good to stop for a moment, and simply be still. She felt like she'd been travelling for ages. The first stop was Scotland to bury Ewan; she owed him that much at least. Then on to Marrakech with Methos to get away from a bit. Bless that man, he asked nothing, and was simply there. No doubt it was the greatest benefit of a four thousand year friendship. No words were needed.

Three months absence from everything connected with Sunnydale had been exactly what she needed. Now she was ready to get back into life. After a quick stop in to see Liam, she would call Lindsey. She had a soft spot for the lawyer who'd stayed with her after getting killing Ethan. She'd spent the better part of two days catatonic and immobilized by grief, and Lindsey didn't leave her side.

She stepped out into the London fog, ready to get back to her flat. The walk to the Her flight to L.A. was two days away; just enough time to catch up on some sleep, and hand in her resignation at the hospital. When she reached the States, she planned on staying for a while. She should probably lease her flat, too, or get the utilities cut off.

The press of people in the Tube was stifling. It really shouldn't be this crowded this late in the evening. The rush hour was long past. Still, Cariss kept her suitcase close by her side as she made her way through. The last thing she wanted to deal with tonight was some pickpocket who decided to lift something off of her. She just might have to hurt anyone who tried it. It was so crowded, she never noticed the one person who got just a bit too close until the needle had already pierced her skin and she went down. They moved quickly, getting her out of the line for the train and out of the station, to the waiting car.

XXXXXXXXXXXXXX

She woke up with her head pounding, as her body fought off the effects of whatever those bastards injected her with. When she found out who did it, they were dead.

Deciding it was time to take stock and figure out where she was, she opened her eyes and looked around. At least this time she wasn't waking up to find herself strapped to a table. She was actually in a large bed. After she turned on the table lamp, she could see that she was in a surprisingly tastefully decorated bedroom. It was complete with dresser and vanity.

Where was she, and who'd taken her? More importantly, what did they want? Money? She was a rather well-known surgeon in this city; it was possible that someone thought they might get a ransom for her. If that was the case, they were in for a nasty shock. She lived alone, and had no relatives. There was no one to pay them.

She was still in the UK at least, which was comforting. The clock on the bedside table read 10:30 pm, and her flight had landed at 9 pm local time. She couldn't have been out for longer than an hour. Odds were good she was even still in London. That would make getting out easier.

She scrambled off the bed when she heard the sound of a key turning a lock. Someone was coming in, and she wasn't about to let them catch her lying down. She would face the bastard standing up, and perhaps even get out of the room. They must have been watching her somehow, waiting for her to wake up.

She could feel the presence of another Immortal. A new Immortal; she could feel it. That complicated things. The door opened, and someone was pushed in before the door was quickly slammed closed and locked again. Cariss froze in shock when she came face to face with the man.

"Lindsey?"

That man looked around wildly, and Cariss had to wonder whether they'd given him something as well. Idiot humans, running around injecting Immortals with drugs ,when they had no idea what a drug would do to one of them.

This was all wrong. She'd left Lindsey McDonald in Los Angeles alive, well, sexually exhausted, and most definitely mortal. Now he was Immortal. And if she was really seeing fangs that he shouldn't have, he wasn't just Immortal. He was like her. Oh dear lord, there were more lunatic Watchers out there trying to force that damned prophecy into fruition? What was so hard to grasp about her inability to get pregnant, that they actually believed this could come true. Neither vampires nor Immortals could have children.

"Lindsey, it's me. It's Cariss."

"Cariss?"

He looked around as he started to sway on his feet. Cariss took hold of his arm and pulled him to the bed. He definitely needed it more than she did at the moment. How long had he been like this?

"It's me. Can you tell me what happened to you?"

He looked confused, and she grew more worried. He was a newborn Immortal Vampire, who probably hadn't had any blood since these bastards managed to get their hands on him. She didn't know how long he could go without feeding. Any length of time was probably too long.

"Where are we?"

"England, I'm pretty sure. Do you know how long you've been here? What happened to you?"

_Lindsey couldn't say why the crash of thunder woke him. He'd slept through worse thunder storms before. But something managed to disturb his already restless slumber. It was the feeling that he wasn't alone in the room._

"_Is someone there?"_

_It was ridiculous to be so worried. No one from Wolfram and Hart knew where he was, nor did they have reason to send anyone after him. He'd gone straight back to Oklahoma after leaving L.A., and putting Cariss (and he really had to stop thinking of her as Siobhan) on a plane to return the body of that giant she'd killed back to Scotland. She'd said something about taking some time to get her head back on straight, and he was just waiting for her to call and say she was back. Not even Angel knew where he'd gone once he left. There was no reason to look over his shoulder like he was._

_The wind managed to knock the balcony door open, and he slipped out of bed to close them. He would have to check the latch on the doors in the morning; they shouldn't have been blown open just by the wind. The moment he reached the door to push it closed, he was grabbed and hauled out onto the balcony. He barely had time to look up and register who'd attacked him before Darla sank her fangs into his neck and started draining the life out of him. The irony that he was the one who'd resurrected his killer wasn't lost on him as he felt his life slipping away. His last conscious thought was that Angel would have a good laugh over this._

"Darla happened."

"Darla? But she's dead."

Was he hallucinating? How did he even know about Darla?

"Wolfram and Hart brought her back."

Oh.

"Why the hell would they do something that stupid?"

"Is that really important right now?"

No. She could let that issue go for now. More important was getting them both out of here, and killing the fools who'd dared to do this.

"What do you know about the people who have us here?"

He leaned into her, and she tensed when she heard him inhale as he pressed his face into the juncture between neck and shoulder. His eyes were dark and hooded when he looked up at her, his intent unmistakable.

"Lindsey, we don't have time for this."

"We've got plenty of time for this."

He continued to move, determined, until Cariss was on her back, and he was hovering over her. He leaned down to continue sniffing, nuzzling at her body. Cariss wondered just what they'd given him. The Lindsey McDonald she knew (and she knew him fairly well) would not decide that having sex was more important than finding a way to get the hell out of their captivity. This could only be the result of whatever those damned Watchers had dosed him with.

"Lindsey."

"I can't stop. Please don't ask me to."

Stop? Hell, she wanted both their clothes in shreds on the floor, now. It was her first clue that something was wrong with her, too. Whatever they'd given her, it had been more than a simple drug to knock her out. Oh hell. The humans were trying to force a prophecy into fruition, and they weren't content with just locking their chosen Immortal Vampires in a room with each other. No, it would seem they'd been given a drug that guaranteed they would try to screw each other senseless. When she got free of this place, she was most definitely killing any human that crossed her path.


	14. Chapter 14

Cariss watched Lindsey sleep, concerned with how weak he was becoming. She'd lost track of the number of days they'd been trapped in this room, but knew it had been several (possibly even weeks), and so far they hadn't been given a single drop of consumable blood. Lindsey had tried to drink the human blood they'd brought after the first day, but his body had rejected it, just at Cariss suspected it would.

These Watchers were smarter than the last ones. By not giving them blood, they were keeping their prisoners week. Without blood they had no choice but to eat real food, and the food was daily drugged with the same aphrodisiac they'd first been given. Nearly every waking moment was spent in bed (and every flat surface of the room) seeking physical release from the induced arousal that never seemed to dissipate. Only complete and utter exhaustion allowed them to sleep. She hadn't been able to even begin planning an escape.

She had to get them out of there. She owed it to the sleeping man who should never have been dragged into this in the first place. Lindsey McDonald should have grown old, married to some Southern girl who could match his sarcasm, surrounded by dozens of children and grandchildren. He shouldn't be trapped into an existence that no one in their right mind would ever choose because some idiot humans couldn't get through their thick heads that she could not, and would not, reproduce.

She'd thrown out the food this morning. She couldn't think clearly if her brain was fogged. If she couldn't think clearly, they would never get out of this prison. She'd already managed to metabolize the last of the drug from yesterday. She needed to find a way to contact Methos. If they were still in London, as she suspected they were, he was the closest person who could help them. He wouldn't have any part in doing this to her, and he would have no qualms in killing those who did. Damn these humans for not being foolish enough to leave a phone. No, they'd ripped the jack out of the wall, and her cell phone had disappeared the night she'd been brought here.

Beside her, Lindsey was finally starting to stir. She could see that his body hadn't completely processed out the drug, no doubt because he was so weak. When his eyes finally opened, they were still clouded with lust and sleep. At least now he was too weak to try to force the issue.

"C'mere."

She leaned out of the way when he reached for her. They both needed to conserve their energy if they were going to make an escape.

"Don't go. C'mere."

"Sorry Lindsey, but you're just going to have to ride this out. We have to figure out a way to get out of here."

He stretched further, and she slid off the bed to start pacing the room. There was too much to deal with, and she just needed to think. If Lindsey didn't get blood soon, he wouldn't be able to do anything to help get themselves out of this mess, and in her current state she wasn't sure she could get them both out without help. Leaving him behind wasn't an option.

"Where's the food?"

She stopped pacing to look at him as he asked that question.

"I tossed it. We can't let them drug us again."

"We need food."

"Here."

She wasn't sure what her blood would do for him, if he would even be able to drink it, but she had to try something. Using her fangs she bit into her own wrist and offered it to him.

"Uh-uh. You're as weak as I am."

"Not quite. Take it, Lindsey. You need blood."

It was a relief when he took her wrist with no more protest and started to drink. She refused to let him see how much it drained her to feed him, and kept her teeth gritted against the ache. She was happy to see that he managed to keep her blood down, and that his body didn't reject it as it had the human blood. He was in desperate need of blood from either an Immortal or a vampire, but it looked like her blood might work for now, and that was all she could ask for.

She stopped him when she started feeling weak, not wanting him to take too much. If someone came in while she was completely out, with Lindsey in such bad shape, they wouldn't stand much of a chance. Lindsey watched her wrist heal in fascination before he pulled her up against him and settled back against the headboard. He knew he was in no shape to do what he really wanted: bury himself inside her and take them both over the edge again and again until they couldn't move. He knew that it was a result of the drugs he'd continually been dosed with, and shook his head to try to clear it out.

He let his thoughts roam as he felt her settle into sleep beside him. He knew she'd been watching over him for the better part of the day, now it was his turn. She was right; they had to get out, and soon. He didn't know who these people were, but he knew what they wanted. Now that he was this-whatever he was—they thought they could use the two of them to breed. They wanted a baby. He'd figured out they were part of the same group as those men who'd attacked them in Sunnydale, and he remembered something about some sort of prophecy; probably from that book that had been stolen from Wolfram and Hart. Lindsey had no intention of falling in with their plans without doing everything he could to fight back.

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

Angel was getting angry. The worry was there, underlying, but more important was the anger. Cariss was supposed to have arrived before now. Nearly two weeks since the flight she was supposed to be on had landed, without her on it, and he still hadn't heard a word from her. Considering that they hadn't spoken for a number of years before the events of Sunnydale, Wesley had unhelpfully observed that he might be overreacting to a week of silence. Wesley didn't know Cariss, though. If the woman committed to something, even something as trivial as coming to visit for a while, she didn't just not show up. And she certainly didn't not show up and then not call to explain why she was cancelling her plans. That just wasn't her temperament, and it never had been. It was one of the things he loved about her.

His mood wasn't helped by Giles' near daily calls asking if he'd heard anything of Spike's whereabouts. Willow had somehow managed to let Buffy know that Spike had taken her, and the Slayer was trying her best to hunt them down. Angel could honestly tell Giles that he hadn't heard from Spike, which saved him from having to lie to the man that he, for the most part, respected. Spike wouldn't call him for help, at least not until he ran out of money, and he wouldn't just show up in L.A. with Willow. The fact that they hadn't come to L.A., when he knew Spike would feel the same need to be near him that he was feeling to be near his childe indicated that he hadn't turned the girl yet. L.A. was far too close to Sunnydale to bring the young witch who would doubtless fight her captivity.

He had a vague idea of where Spike and Willow were hiding out, based on the properties in his name that he'd been getting higher utility bills for the last few months, but nothing concrete. And he wasn't about to set the Slayer on their trail by giving the Watcher vague possibilities. Spike needed time to either get Willow to settle, or turn her. He would give his childe that time. After leaving Spike in the hands of the Slayer for so long, unable to defend himself, he owed him that. Cariss had noticed the strong attachment Spike had for the mortal girl, and that it appeared to be mutual. Nothing in the world would convince Angel to try to take Willow away.

He wasn't being entirely heartless, he told himself. He was concerned for Willow, just as much as her friends were. He was concerned for her physical wellbeing, and had even gone so far as to send his childe a cell phone so that he could speak to the girl himself to ensure she was alright. It might take a few days for the phone and the running couple to intersect, but he knew they would eventually. Spike wouldn't take Willow somewhere he wasn't familiar with; he would stay with environments he could control. That meant he would stay with places Angel knew well, and had real interests in, and at some point they would be in the house where he'd sent the phone. As soon as that happened, he had a few words to exchange with his childe concerning the mortal witch. He didn't think for a minute that Spike would intentionally try to harm her; this wasn't Dru, who would respond eagerly to such treatment. No, Spike would be as careful as he could be of his Willow. Any injury to the girl would be purely accidental.

But Angel owed it to Willow as well to be concerned about her overall wellbeing. He had to give careful consideration to what he would be returning Willow to if he did take her from Spike. The neglect showed by her parents made his own father look like an exemplary role model. They wouldn't be equipped to help their daughter deal with a trauma, if they even noticed. And her friends? Her friends would be very concerned, and would do their best, but he'd seen their best, and he wouldn't wish it on his enemy. He wouldn't even wish it on Lindsey McDonald. They would always see her differently for her time with Spike. She would never be able to go back to life the way it was before he carried her off, and trying to rebuild a life for herself in Sunnydale, where the few friends she had would always look at her as something other, something tainted, would be impossible.

No, he was certain Willow would disagree with him, possibly even hate him for it, but he couldn't in good conscience take her from someone he knew would take care of her and treat her as something precious just to turn her back over to people who never really saw her for what she was worth in the first place. She deserved better than that.

He idly wondered if Spike had figured out yet just how different keeping Willow was from keeping Dru. With Drusilla all he had to do was replace the pets she continually starved to death because she couldn't remember to feed them. Angel was fairly certain that Willow would give Spike a run for his money, once she got over being afraid of him. If she ever put that genius brain of hers to use against him, his childe would be in serious trouble.

"Angel, there's a call for you."

He looked up from his internal musings to see Cordelia standing in his doorway. He hadn't even heard the girl come in.

"Who is it?"

If it was Giles again, he was hanging up.

"Some British guy. I thought he was calling for Wesley, but he asked for you specifically."

"Take a message."

"He said, and I quote, 'if the bloody vampire doesn't answer the phone or put Cariss on right now I'm flying over to L.A. to have the pleasure of running my sword directly through his heart'. I don't know what he's talking about, but he sounded kinda pissed."

Methos. It could only be that Immortal friend of his Faerie. Now Angel was really concerned. He'd thought that maybe Cariss hadn't come because she was too wrapped up with Methos to remember her flight. It wouldn't be the first time she'd done it, gone off with that Immortal and completely lost track of the days and weeks that passed. It was the only explanation for her absence that didn't include trouble, and it had just been blown to hell by that phone call. Methos wouldn't be looking for her here in L.A. if she was with him.

"I'll take it, Cordy. Thanks."

As soon as she left he picked up the phone and hit the button to transfer the call to his desk. He definitely didn't want this conversation to be heard by the rest of the building's inhabitants.

"Look, bitch, I don't care how much time you want to spend in bed with your little lawyer boy-toy, but you answer your bloody phone when it rings!"

"It's Angel. Cariss never made it to L.A."

"Say that again."

The conversation was terse and to the point, with the Immortal not liking the vampire any more than the vampire liked the Immortal. Angel hung up the phone wondering how Lorne ever managed to get along with that guy. He really hated Immortals; they thought that just because they weren't technically demons they were above everyone else. And they just wouldn't die, no matter how many times you ripped their throats out. Still, if he had to work with the annoying wanker to find out what happened to his Faerie, he would do so (and hope that he at some point had the opportunity to cut off his head).

B-B-B-B-B

Willow was exhausted as she pulled on yet another dress. Somehow, someway, Spike had found a boutique that catered almost exclusively to demons. So here she was, stripped down to her underwear while a sales associate tossed various articles over the curtain for her to try on. She'd already been at it for almost three hours. To make matters worse, she had to model everything she tried on for Spike, who had the nerve to sit on one of those cushioned chairs and sip a glass of blood. She didn't even want to think about where that blood came from.

If only one of these ever-so-helpful sales people would just talk to her! Tell her where exactly she was! But no, they didn't speak to her, not even when they took her measurements. The woman took every imaginable measurement, and the only words she ever said were "suck in", "hold your breath", and "what size do you wear", before she disappeared out onto the sales floor. They just treated her like she was a live doll to dress up, coming in to stare critically at her, taking in every detail of her appearance before either taking away something they'd brought for her to try or manhandling her into yet another outfit.

The clothes were beautiful, she would give them that, but they were nothing she'd ever wear. The dress she was shrugging into at the moment was a lovely peach flowered silk that looked like something out of the 30's. It fell past her knees and the skirt was just full enough to flare at the bottom. She'd never dreamed of owning something so classy, especially not something that hugged her few curves so nicely. But she didn't want Spike buying her clothes. Ever. Not since he'd gone from trusted friend to kidnapper and rapist. She wasn't his danged pet!

"Come on out, Red."

Her most recent tormentor helpfully pushed her out of her curtained retreat into the main room, and she fought the urge to fidget as Spike critically looked her up and down.

"Lovely. She'll take this one."

Without another word she was herded back behind the curtain, and the dress was pulled off and carried out to be added to the ever growing pile of "keepers". Spike had apparently decided to buy her an entire new wardrobe. Tops and jeans were mixed in with the dresses Spike seemed to want her in, and her cheeks flamed at the thought of all the lingerie that had been delivered from another store for his approval. She'd put her foot down, flatly refusing to model those for him, not caring if she pissed him off enough to drain her dry. That was far past the extent of her cooperation. He'd just smiled and let it go, which actually worried her more than if he'd insisted.

And the shoes. Willow had never owned so many pairs of shoes in her life, or even seen so many different pairs in one place outside the mall. Some specialty store had delivered a large variety to choose from, in addition to what the boutique had on hand. Had Spike threatened that many people, or was he really just that important in the demon world that people jumped to do what he asked? Willow guessed money really did buy anything. On the plus side, at least one pair that he'd picked had stiletto's pointy enough she might be able to stake him with them.

After Spike finally decided she had enough, she was allowed to put her regular clothes back on. Even those were a bit of a disappointment, as she couldn't even call them her regular clothes. The only thing she'd left Sunnydale with was the clothes on her back, and Spike had long since gotten rid of them. His idea of appropriate clothing had led to arguments that should have woken any nearby neighbors, and resulted in her grudgingly wearing the jeans he'd picked up for her, and his t-shirts and button downs. She'd managed to get a hold of his lighter long enough to burn the corsets and transparently gauzy tops he'd supplied. What she wouldn't give for just one fuzzy sweater from her closet at home.

Her jaw dropped at the total after all the clothes were wrung up. The sales lady looked ecstatic, and Willow dimly realized she probably worked on commission, which was likely more than this woman earned in a month. It was definitely more money than she'd ever earned in a month the one summer she'd actually worked a job. The purchases were packed into boxes and bags that far outnumbered what a single person could ever hope to carry. How would he even get all this stuff back to his car?

"It will all be delivered before dawn, Sir."

Well, that answered that question. Spike slung an arm around Willow's waist and guided her out of the boutique and back to the car. She looked around, trying to take in every detail. There had to be something that would give her some idea of where she was. But no, Spike hauled her back into the car in record time, and she didn't have a chance to take in her surroundings while she was holding on for dear life as he drove like a madman. She closed her eyes as she saw the needle on the speedometer climbing.

She was surprised to see the box waiting on the doorstep when they got back to the house. Judging from the expression on Spike's face, he was surprised to see it too, and not in a good way. The handwriting was familiar; Willow knew she'd seen it before. It looked like—it was. It was Angel's handwriting. Angel knew where they were!

Before she could say anything, Spike had the door unlocked and quasi-shoved Willow inside. The box he set on the coffee table in the living room, looking at it as if he was waiting for it to explode. She kind of hoped it would, but no. His cautious opening of the box revealed nothing more deadly than a cell phone. But still, that was good news, right? Angel had sent a cell phone. He would—what did his sending a cell phone mean he would do? If he was going to threaten Spike and rescue her, he would have done that in person. And he had to know that she was being held here: there was no way Buffy or Giles wouldn't have told him that Spike kidnapped her. If he knew where Spike was, then he knew where she was too. So why hadn't he come in person? Or at least told Buffy where she was, so that the Slayer could take care of Spike, if he didn't want to do it himself?

XXXX

Spike was worried about Willow. The girl had gone silent hours ago, after a conversation with Angel. His Sire had actually come through, telling Red point blank that he wasn't coming to get her. It had been a blow to the girl, hearing that her last hope for rescue wasn't coming, and from his own lips. He didn't know why Angel had decided to be so accommodating, but he'd take it. The sooner his human understood that she wasn't going anywhere, the sooner she would finally settle down, and the better off she would be.

It hurt to realize just how badly the girl had been hoping for someone to rescue her. He hadn't treated her badly; he hadn't so much as laid a hand on her in violence. He'd given her anything she asked for. What more did the bloody woman want? He was starting to regret not turning her as soon as they'd gotten away from Slutty and the rest of her friends. If he hadn't wanted to enjoy the warmth of a human woman for a while he'd already have his Red Goddess. How he missed the vampire version of Willow. That woman, for the brief time she'd been in this reality, had been his match in every way. He'd waited, something he'd never bothered to do before, for the human girl to grow up. Turning her prematurely wouldn't bring out the vampire he knew lurked beneath that innocent exterior. She'd be even more powerful now that she'd started practicing magick. Even if her spells were beginner at best, the potential was there. When he finally turned her, she would be a force to be reckoned with.

He growled impatiently as the doorbell rang, and he pulled the steel door open. It was about time they delivered this evening's purchases! He paid for their service, paid dearly, and they waited until it was nearly sunrise to deliver everything? He had a few words for their manager when he called them up after sundown.

"Put it all in the bedroom," he ordered the rather unfortunate looking demons hauling boxes and bags. Willow barely looked up as they filed past her and disappeared down the stairway to the bedroom. She didn't look up during any of their treks in and out, or when they finally left. Only Spike securely locking the door she didn't have any hope of being able to open got her attention.

"It's time for bed, Pet."

She didn't answer, but rose from the couch and headed for the bedroom, leaving him to trail behind her. She grabbed one of the flimsy nightgowns she'd just acquired and shut herself into the bathroom. Let Spike believe what he wanted about her silence, but she'd spent the last hours thinking. Angel wasn't coming for her. He knew where she was, he knew what Spike was putting her through, but he wasn't coming for her. Now she knew that wherever she was, Buffy had no idea. She couldn't count on help from that end, either. She didn't know why Angel had decided to become her enemy, but that was fine. If she couldn't count on anyone else helping her out of this hell, she would just have to escape on her own.

This house actually had potential. The main door might be steel, but the windows weren't. They weren't even barred, they were just boarded up. She'd been practicing her spells on the brief occasions she was left alone, and she was sure she could get rid of the boards. Once she did that, she could get out through a window. All she had to do was get out of the basement-turned-bedroom they occupied, and up to a window. The biggest problem would be getting free of the handcuff that kept her bound to Spike during the day, but she had a plan for that too.

"What's taking so long in there, Red?"

She hurried through changing, using the bathroom and brushing her teeth. If she took too long, Spike would just come through the door. He'd done it more than once when she took longer than he thought she should. Probably wanting to make sure she didn't try to drown herself in the bathtub or something. She grabbed the fingernail clippers and carried them out with her, making a show of clipping her nails. Spike grabbed her hand, inspecting the job she was doing.

"Pity. I rather liked them long."

"Well, they were starting to crack, so I wanted to cut them before they broke."

Fortunately he didn't say anything to that; he just waited for her to finish her grooming before applying the handcuffs to their wrists and pulling Willow into the bed. She hurriedly set the clippers on her nightstand as Spike pulled her into a kiss, reaching across her to turn out the lamp. Her protest was brief as she was rolled under him, and she focused on getting through the encounter without losing her cool.

She waited until she was sure he was asleep to feel along the nightstand until she came into contact with the nail clippers. She fumbled with the tiny implement until she was able to rotate out the pointy tip she never actually used on her nails. It was small enough; it should be able to fit into the keyhole on the cuffs. If she could manage to get the cuff unlocked without waking up Spike, she could make a break for it.

She stuck herself more than a few times as she tried to get the tiny pick into the keyhole. She cursed the fact that the room was pitch black, but didn't dare turn on the lamp. If he woke up while she was still cuffed to him, she'd be in real trouble. She froze when he turned over, but he didn't stir beyond punching a pillow and getting more comfortable. After a few tense minutes of waiting, she went back to work.

The click of the cuff unlocking was so soft that for a moment Willow didn't realize that she'd finally done it. It had been a long shot, but she felt the shackle loosen, and she was able to slip out of it with only very slight prying. _Thank you God_, she thought to herself as she very carefully slid off the bed. It was agonizing to move slowly, when she wanted nothing more than to sprint across the room and up those stairs as fast as she possibly could, but she couldn't risk making too much noise and waking the vampire.

Inch by inch she made her way across the room to where she knew the closet was, feeling her way along the wall. Her excellent memory was put to use in feeling through the clothes on the hangers to find a pair of jeans and a tank top. Underwear would have been nice, but that would have required rifling through drawers, and she wasn't risking the noise. She slid the tank top over her head and climbed into the jeans. Footwear might be a problem; Spike hadn't bought her a single pair of sneakers, and she couldn't possibly run in the heels that lined the closet floor and top shelf. Had he at least bought her a pair of flats? Jackpot: a pair of sandals. Not ideal for trying to run, but she didn't want to try running barefoot on asphalt. She would wait until she got outside to put them on, though.

A thought occurred to her, and she held the sandals by their straps and inched her way back over to the bed. Silently, she felt along the mattress until she found what she was looking for: the open handcuff. Terrified that Spike might wake up while she was in reach; she hurried to lock the handcuff around the headboard, then inched/slid her way across the room to the stairs, carefully feeling along the floor for any obstacles. She knew when she reached the opposite wall that she'd made it to the staircase, and climbed the stairs as silently and quickly as she could.

Her relief at making it up the stairs was short-lived, as she heard Spike begin to move around. If he was searching for her, it wouldn't take him long at all to wake up.

"Red?"

She momentarily froze in fear, until the activation of the lamp filled the room with light, and she could see the disbelief, and then rage, that flitted across Spike's face.

"Red!"

He attempted to lunge off the bed, but was stopped by the handcuff, and he immediately lost his human visage. That spurred Willow into action, and she wrenched open the door and ran across the open living area to the next set of stairs. That headboard might be metal, but it wouldn't hold him for long.

"Willow!"

His yell filled the building, and Willow ran to the first window she could get to. Concentrating was harder than she expected when she could fell the vibrations as Spike pulled against the headboard, making it crash into the wall, but fear drove her. This was the closest she'd come to escaping before, and she just knew that if she didn't get away today, she would die. She finally managed to zap the board, the tiny amount of fire sparking off her fingers burning a hole through the wood; a hole she could use to pull the rest of the boards apart.

There was a moment's disorientation as she was faced with the bright light of the sun after being in the pitch dark. She was faced with a large pane of what looked to be thick glass. She put all of her strength behind the elbow strike into the glass, but it only barely cracked. That crack coincided with another loud crash of the headboard into the wall, and then a brief moment of silence followed by a roar of anger.

Gritting her teeth, elbowed the glass again, and it cracked further. It also damaged her elbow; blood started flowing freely down her arm. She was getting desperate now; there was no way she'd be able to break the glass before Spike reached her. A glance down the hallway landed on a small wrought-iron table, and Willow sprinted for it. She dragged it down the hallway, then used strength she never would have believed she possessed and hurled it against the window, finally succeeding in shattering the glass.

"Willow!"

She ignored the glass cutting her feet as she stepped on it to get to the window. Oh no. She'd misjudged the distance to the ground; it was a lot higher than she expected. Hearing Spike on the stairs, she shoved the sandal straps into her mouth so that her hands were free for holding on to the window, and climbed through.

"Red!"

She dangled off the window ledge, trying her hardest not to look down, when she felt a hand grab onto her wrists in a crushing grip. She yelped at the pain, dropping the sandals to the ground below her. The pain was excruciating; it wouldn't be surprising to learn he'd broken a bone.

"I've got you, Pet."

No. No no no no no. Not when she was so close! He started to pull her back up, and she kicked her feet, swinging wildly to counter that pulling. Her feet finally made contact with the wall, and she braced against it. Now that she was somewhat stationary, she used that leverage to pull back against Spike. She wasn't giving up without a fight.

"You're not getting away from me, Willow!" he growled at her as he squeezed harder and pulled. Willow pulled back, putting everything she had into breaking his grip. She pulled, and he leaned further out the window.

He was only just in the shadows, and she had an idea. She pushed off from the wall, swinging out. It wasn't a controlled swing, but it was serving its purpose, making Spike move. When she swung, again pushing off the wall, she managed to get into the sun that was moving ever closer, taking Spike's wrist directly into a shaft of sunlight. The air was immediately filled with the smell of burning flesh, and Willow was in a free fall to the ground below.

"Willow!"

She lay immobile, stunned for a moment, as she struggled to draw in a breath. The pain was enough to tell her that she was alive, but was anything broken? Could she move? She had to be able to move. She wasn't naïve enough to think that even the sunlight would keep Spike trapped for long. He could just throw that damned duster of his over his head to try to run outside. Why oh why hadn't she thought to grab it?

She forced herself to her feet. They hurt, quite a lot, from the broken glass, and her ankle felt like it might be sprained, but she started limping into a run. She had to get as far away from the house as she could, and she had to figure out where she was so she could figure out how to get home.

The area wasn't completely isolated, but she didn't recognize anything as she pushed herself to run. The fact that she was heading downhill was probably the only thing that let her keep going. People in cars passed her on the road, not even sparing her a glance. She thought about trying to flag one down, but when a jeep got close, she couldn't understand what they were saying. They weren't speaking English, and she saw more than one person carrying a weapon. She kept her head down and moved off the road, hoping they would just keep going past her.

Judging from the number of buildings she could see in the shrinking distance, she was heading for the main part of the city. She glanced above the approaching skyline and almost tripped as she skidded to a stop. That wasn't possible. There was no way she was seeing the giant statue of Jesus that towered above the city on the mountain. She was in Rio?! How the hell did Spike get her to Brazil without her knowing?!

_Keep moving, Rosenburg! You can worry about the how once you've made it out alive! _

That thought was needed to spur her into action, and she started running again. She could feel the pain of her injuries more acutely for having stopped, and cursed her stupidity in stopping. She needed to get somewhere she could get treated, but where could she go? She was in Brazil, and she didn't speak Portuguese. She had no clue how their emergency system worked.

People stared at her as she ran down the road into the first busy street. She knew she must look horrible, with blood still dripping down her arm and her clothes disheveled from the fall and running. It was no wonder people turned away if she happened to make eye contact with them. If she saw someone who looked like she did, she'd probably lock the door against them.

Just when she was starting to lose hope of finding some place she might be safe, she saw a church, no more than half a block away. She put on a last burst of energy, and sprinted the final stretch up the steps to the church. The door was unlocked; it opened easily and she flung herself into the building, chest heaving. She couldn't understand the words of the nuns hurrying towards her, but it didn't matter. She closed her eyes, finally feeling safe at last.


End file.
